The Girl They Both Loved
by cyam
Summary: When love and its secrets come in the way of friendship... What if Mitsui's reason for hating Ryota involved more than just basketball? REVISED chapters 9 and 10. Final chap to follow soon, and I mean it this time. ^^
1. Chap 1

Ahem, hello, minna. This is my first ever attempt at a Slam Dunk fanfic, so please be gentle. No, this is not yaoi, because I figured there's already more than enough out there. ^_^ I may have twisted the facts a bit, but it's to suit the fic.  
  
Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Nobody on the team knew much about her, except that she was the tireless and driven Shohoku manager. That she was always there, ready with a word of encouragement, or armed with a deadly paper fan, depending on the situation. That she can be lovely when she wants to, and that she was being pursued by Miyagi.  
  
"What is wrong with you, Shohoku? Get those spirits fired up!" she was yelling animatedly along the sidelines. Covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, she blew away a couple of hair strands that fell on her forehead.  
  
Her scolding seemed to work. The freshmen started fighting back more roughly against the sophomores and the seniors. Sakuragi somehow managed to poke the ball out of Kogure's hands while the latter was trying to make a shot.  
  
"Hahaha!" the redheaded, self-proclaimed tensai boasted. "Where would you freshmen be without my amazing attacks and plays?"  
  
"It was out of bounds, d'aho," Rukawa reminded him silently.  
  
"Shut up, kitsune. You weren't exactly helping!"  
  
The two were about to engage in another major scuffle when the whistle was blown.  
  
"Stop that right now!" she yelled half-angrily, half-amused from the bench. "Show me some real basketball, will you?"  
  
Sakuragi's ears fumed, but he was more than willing to take up the challenge. He and Rukawa shot each other one last menacing look before going back to the game. The ball was already inbound, in the hands of jersey number 7.  
  
"C'mon, guys! Let's teach these cheeky freshmen a bit of discipline!" Miyagi said, smiling.  
  
"Nani!"  
  
It was then that Miyagi made a quick feint to drive past Sakuragi to score an easy lay-up.  
  
"Nice one, Ryota!" she said, standing up to high-five with the blushing point guard.  
  
When she returned to the bench to resume her seat, she glanced at the guy sitting beside her. "You should be playing with them. I can take over the refereeing, you know," she told him.  
  
"I like the view from here."  
  
He wasn't talking about the game, and she knew it. But before he could say another word, she inclined her head towards Akagi, who was standing not five feet away from them, functioning as the other referee.  
  
"The captain might hear you," she warned, looking at him only from the corners of her eyes.  
  
"So what?"  
  
"Good steal, Ryota!" she shouted, purposefully ignoring her seatmate.  
  
He couldn't take his eyes off her. He watched as she took out her fan to stop Sakuragi and Rukawa from blaming each other again. He narrowed his eyes, however, when he saw her smile her approval at the short point guard.  
  
*She used to cheer for only me. Her words of support, her beautiful smile was for me alone…. *  
  
But those were days long gone.  
  
Nobody knew that the two of them had had a history in junior high school. That they had been together, a couple. It was his fault their relationship ended, but that still didn't stop him from wanting her back. He was surprised when he found out she enrolled in Shohoku High – maybe to follow him? maybe to taunt him? – he couldn't tell. But he was pleased, damn pleased.  
  
The problem was, he was already a gangster by that time. He had quit the team because of a serious injury, feeling hopeless and certain it was too late to make things right. He had returned to make trouble for the team, and then there was Miyagi. He already hated the guy's guts, and when he had heard that the pesky point guard was interested in Ayako, he flew into an even worse rage. The others thought it was because of just basketball that he got into a bloody fight with Miyagi. Even Miyagi himself didn't know the real reason.  
  
But she did.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Don't do this to them… Don't do this to yourself," she pleaded after the first brawl. "I'm not yours anymore, Hisa-san. You have no right to… to…." she trailed off, her voice hurting and begging.  
  
He closed his eyes and turned away, her words bringing him shame. He realized she was right.  
  
"Talk to Anzai-sensei," she said as she turned to walk away. "He may be the only person who can bring back the Hisashi I know."  
  
But he wasn't ready to give up his troublemaking just yet. It wasn't that simple. He clung to his tattered pride, but even this was taken away from him the day he broke down in the gym, bloodied and torn, in front of everyone, to ask for another chance.  
  
  
  
***  
  
After that, he seemed to redeem himself well. It was difficult getting back his rhythm, but he managed through hard work. Soon afterwards he blended into the Shohoku team like a lost piece of puzzle. He started getting along greatly with the others, including Miyagi, surprisingly.  
  
Anzai-sensei had always been close to Mitsui, like a second father, but the old man never mentioned the issue regarding him and Ayako. Perhaps Anzai-sensei knew, perhaps he didn't.  
  
As for Ayako, she was very happy for him and welcomed him back warmly. "Isn't it wonderful to have your dreams back?" she had asked him softly during one practice.  
  
He was about to make a three-pointer, but he hesitated and stared directly into her eyes. "I don't have everything back, Aya-chan."  
  
He never kept his feelings secret from her, but it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of them to keep the whole story a secret from the team. There would be too much to explain, not to mention tension and conflict with the team and Miyagi. Especially with Miyagi. And so Mitsui contented himself with longing glances at her, stolen moments such as the practice today, mouthing *I love you* to her when no one was looking, trying to walk her home if he beat Miyagi to it….  
  
That was the hardest part. Seeing his friend make advances towards her and keeping a cool façade. At least Mitsui was comforted by the fact that Ayako never really treated Miyagi more than just another friend. Or was she just hiding it, the way the two of them were hiding their history from the team? Was she simply thinking of the possible consequences? Was she falling for Miyagi?  
  
Mitsui watched her scribble something on her writing pad as the game between the freshmen and sophomores-seniors neared its end. He wanted to find out from her. He cursed himself, wishing he had the right to ask.  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Oy, Sakuragi! Better luck next time!" Miyagi bellowed from across the room as he flung his bag over his shoulders.  
  
The bullheaded freshman grunted his annoyance, proceeding to mop the gym floor with renewed vigor. Rukawa was close by, looking glum and indifferent as usual.  
  
"Close game."  
  
Miyagi turned to see Mitsui come up behind him to watch the freshmen clean up the court. He grinned. The sophomores and seniors won by one point. Miyagi felt in fine form, remembering how Ayako had clapped her hands for him afterwards.  
  
"Hey, I'm starving," he told Mitsui. "What do you say we grab something to eat?"  
  
Minutes later, the two were walking, munching on some glazed donuts. They talked casually about the game, the players, the future of Shohoku. Mitsui admitted the freshmen were getting better and tougher by the day, though he would never say it to Sakuragi's smug face. Miyagi chuckled.  
  
"By the way, I thought you were walking Ayako home."  
  
"No, not today."  
  
They were passing through the park and a short spell of silence fell over them.  
  
"Did you notice how many times she cheered me on?" Miyagi asked finally, smiling as he finished off his food.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He playfully swatted a tree trunk as they walked by. "It felt incredible. Like I could do anything, even make a dunk."  
  
Mitsui gave him a sidelong glance.  
  
He snickered. "I know. I know. I guess you don't understand."  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"Well, a nice, beautiful girl can always make a guy short of breath, can always make him imagine crazy things…." Miyagi plopped down on a park bench and cradled his bag in his arms. "I've never heard you mention a girl before. Not once."  
  
Mitsui crossed his arms and looked down at him. "That doesn't mean I never had one."  
  
"Oh, so there *is* someone."  
  
"Was."  
  
Miyagi raised his eyebrows. In the next instant, he sat up straighter, his face sparkling with interest. "So who was she?"  
  
"I'd rather not discuss it."  
  
"Aw. Spill. Let's hear it, Mitsui-san."  
  
"What for? I keep things like this private. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve, like *other* people."  
  
This made Miyagi more eager. "Hmm," he reflected, tapping his forefinger on his temple. "A dark, mysterious girl from Mitsui's past that he refuses to talk about. Interesting…."  
  
"Shut up, Miyagi," was all Mitsui said before walking away.  
  
The short point guard just laughed to himself and ran up to catch up with his friend.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Whew. Minna, please don't kill me. The idea for this fic was conceived by me and a classmate of mine during an insane study break. Chapter 2 is on its way. But please, I need to hear first your reactions - violent or not – so that I can still make necessary changes. Thank you!!! -_- 


	2. Chap 2

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
Again, I may have twisted the facts a bit, but it's to suit the fic!  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
The Inter High was fast approaching, and the Shohoku team trained hard and relentlessly. They extended their practice hours, multiplied their drills, and tightened their regimen.  
  
Which caused several problems with the team members' academics.  
  
Ayako sighed, feeling her lungs deflate almost close to fainting. She had just come from the office of Anzai-sensei. She had learned that with the exception of Akagi and Kogure, the rest of the regular members' grades were in jeopardy. Again. She recalled the other time when they had a study camp at Akagi's house, and groaned. The next batch of examinations was scheduled a few days before Shohoku faced their first opponent, and since the trainings couldn't be adjusted, the task of tutoring the four bums fell to her.  
  
She checked her watch. It was Saturday, and instead of enjoying a lazy day at home, she was heading towards her first mission, Sakuragi. She sniffed, marveling at the things she did for the basketball team.  
  
After a couple of hours of arguing and deliberate threats, Ayako finally survived her session with Sakuragi. The guy was a pain in the neck! He refused to listen, grumbled a lot, and insisted that tensais didn't need to focus on anything but basketball. Ayako shook her head, smiling. Yes, he was a troublemaker, but he worked wonders with the team.  
  
Her next stop was Rukawa, who proved to be a bit more cooperative. He hardly gave her a worry, only that she had to wake him up every six minutes.  
  
She was supposed to head to Mitsui's place after Rukawa's, but the two of them decided earlier that that wouldn't be necessary. Or rather, it was *she* who decided for them.  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Sempai," she carefully addressed him, knowing full well the other basketball club members were still lingering inside the gym, and still within earshot. "I don't think you still need me to help you tomorrow."  
  
"How come, Aya-chan?"  
  
She frowned and leaned closer. "Don't call me that."  
  
"Why? Because Miyagi does?" he had whispered back, catching a whiff of her perfume. "Don't forget I've been calling you that long before he came into the picture."  
  
She couldn't respond right away. It took her a few moments to recollect her thoughts. "Please. I know you can study by yourself. Besides, my coming over to tutor you would make the both of us uncomfortable."  
  
"I'm not uncomfortable."  
  
She was about to open her mouth to quip back, when he held up his hands in resignation. He stared at her. "Yare, yare. If that's what you want."  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Hi! I saw you walking up the steps," Ryota greeted Ayako, then quickly become conscious that he sounded so excited. "Ahm, come in, come in."  
  
She blinked. She had already reached Ryota's house without even realizing it, mentally and physically tired as she was. She had poised her small fist above the door to knock, but it had immediately opened.  
  
Ryota felt like a prize idiot for not being able to contain himself. He was acting like a little schoolboy in the presence of the most amazing woman in the world. But then again, wasn't Ayako exactly *that* to him?  
  
"You have a warm, cozy looking house, Ryota."  
  
He watched her intently as she stepped into the living room, surveying the surroundings. He was proud that she liked his place.  
  
"Good afternoon, you must be Ayako?" his mother said, emerging from the kitchen.  
  
"Yes, I am. I'm pleased to meet you."  
  
Ryota couldn't help the wide smile that spread over his face. His mother and his dream girl were in the same room, and introduced to each other at last. And from the looks of it, they liked each other instantly.  
  
"I'm sure you can help Ryota concentrate more on his studies. He seems to be getting more and more distracted each day."  
  
The remark caused him to redden. Darn, he didn't need patronizing from his mother right now!  
  
"Your mom's kind," she told him once they were alone.  
  
"Well, sometimes she can get carried away, you know what I mean?"  
  
She just smiled at him, the way she always does when he said something funny or silly. He loved her smile.  
  
"Ahm, my room's a bit of a mess, so I suggest we stay here in the living room," he offered.  
  
"All right," she nodded, lowering herself on the floor carpet.  
  
He gazed at her, fascinated, as her nimble fingers took out some books and scraps of paper from her bag. He didn't know anyone who could look so cute just by getting ready for lessons. He took a deep breath.  
  
"C'mon, sit down. I also have my trusty fan, you know, in case you give me a hard time," she joked lightly.  
  
He grinned.  
  
During the next hour, she managed to discuss with him a couple of the required novels in their English subject. He had trouble focusing on Hemingway when he could feel her shoulders bumping lightly against his. Several times he felt so intoxicated with the scent of her hair and her perfume that his eyelids drifted down, only to have him knocked by her paper fan. Who could even think of a guy named F. Scott Fitzgerald when her face was but a few inches away from his, and he needed to only lean sideways a little to press his lips against hers…. ?  
  
"Ryota, have you understood anything so far?" her voice penetrated his thoughts.  
  
He nodded, trying to ignore the fact that her hand was brushing his lightly. "The code-hero is Hemingway's trademark, as seen in his novels – "  
  
"Name two."  
  
He rummaged through his brain for any bit of information she might have told him so far. "I… ah, there's…. The Rising Sun."  
  
"The Sun Also Rises," she corrected him softly.  
  
"Right. And there's The Old Man and the Sea."  
  
She rewarded him with a bright smile.  
  
"It seems I was listening more than I thought," he muttered sheepishly. *Man, I'd do anything to have her look at me like that always.*  
  
The moment would have lasted longer, but his mother entered the room, breaking the contact of their eyes. "Hi, you two. I'm going to the market to buy some food. Ryota, you take care of our guest for a while, ne? Don't you do anything to scare her, got that?"  
  
Ryota silently congratulated his mother for once again embarrassing him in front of Ayako. He wasn't sure if she was doing it on purpose or not.  
  
"I'm liking your mom more and more," Ayako remarked after the door closed behind his mother.  
  
He snickered, deciding his mother was off the hook temporarily. "Listen, Aya-chan, you look stressed out. You want me to get you some tea? Coffee? Juice? Sparkling water?"  
  
She rested her chin on her palms and turned her eyes on the guy standing in front of her, offering her anything she wanted.  
  
He shifted uneasily under her intense scrutiny. He felt like he was aflame. He had to make an exit.  
  
She barely heard him mumble something about fetching from the store down the block a can of diet tea – if there was such a thing – before he rushed outside. Ayako giggled quietly. Ryota could be so amusing. His nervousness during their study session didn't escape her notice.  
  
One thing she didn't find amusing, though, was his observation that she looked stressed out. What was that supposed to mean? That she looked awful? Somehow the idea that *he* thought so made her cringe.  
  
Standing up slowly, she hazarded a peek into the wall mirror near the kitchen. Her hair was sticking out in couple of places, her skin was pale, and her eyes were puffy from exhaustion. With a sigh, she concluded he was right. Well, who wouldn't be tired after a day of buying groceries in the morning, cleaning the house, and tutoring three bums one after another in the afternoon?  
  
She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. She spotted the small horse- hair sofa in the corner of the room. It looked so inviting to her weary limbs. *Just five minutes. Surely I'd wake up before Ryota gets back,* were her last thoughts before her eyes closed shut  
  
  
  
***  
  
Ryota tried to steady the annoying grocery bag in his hands as he opened the door to his house. From his calculations, he had been gone for nearly half an hour. He had prowled the aisles of the store, stashing in the basket anything he figured Ayako might like, before he remembered the time. He was afraid she had grown impatient – he couldn't blame her – and already left….  
  
He almost dropped his load when he stepped inside and found her sleeping peacefully on his favorite chair. Her hair was down, spread out behind her, forming an image of a dark brown halo. She looked so gentle, so breathtaking, that he couldn't bring himself to move for fear of waking her up.  
  
After staring at her, mesmerized, for what seemed to him as days, he tiptoed to the table nearest her and set down the grocery bag. He knelt down in front of her on the mat, his left elbow placed on one of the pillows.  
  
*God, please just let me have this moment a little longer.*  
  
Ryota's eyes rested endearingly on Ayako, committing to memory every detail of how she looked. He felt his heart swell with something akin to warmth, but so much more.  
  
She stirred in her sleep and her head slipped down a couple of inches from its resting place. He immediately got up to adjust her head.  
  
As he moved closer, Ryota felt the air become charged. He was leaning over Ayako, thinking of ways to slip a pillow underneath her head without disturbing her. Carefully, he scooped up her neck enough to put the soft pillow beneath. He closed his eyes. He had already done what he needed to do, but realized he didn't want to step away from her yet.  
  
"Aya-chan," he whispered, inhaling the scent of her deeply. "I have so much to tell you."  
  
He braced his hands on the armrests on either side of her still body. Unable to help himself, he went on speaking to her. "Maybe it's good you're asleep right now, because when you're awake and looking at me, I always muddle the things I want to say to you.  
  
"I love you. You're the reason why I'm even playing basketball in Shohoku right now. I want to impress you, make you think I'm good and all that. I want to be close to you, more than anything. I want to win games for the team and take it to the Inter High because I know that would make you happy.  
  
"You've never showed me that you feel the same way, but no matter. I still love you. I love the way you shout your support for us during practice and during games. I love the way you hit us with your fan, even when it really hurts, knowing you don't mean it. I love it when I can feel your eyes watching me whenever I make a steal, or a pass, or a nice shot. I love it when you say Hi in the school corridors.  
  
"I love your hair, whether it's in a ponytail, in a bun, or just hanging down. I love your nose, the shape of your ears, and your lips. God, I love your lips.  
  
"And that's not even the half of everything…."  
  
Ryota leaned back to study her beautiful face. With a start, he discovered her eyes were wide open and gazing straight into his.  
  
He swallowed. "Ahm… Ah… How l-long have you been awake?"  
  
"Long enough."  
  
They weren't even touching – he was just leaning down mere inches away from her – but he could feel the heat from her eyes flow through his entirety.  
  
He saw her lick her lips and he couldn't think of anything else to do but move closer, until his lips found hers. He closed his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, he heard himself moan as softly as a breeze. Her lips were just as soft and sweet as he had tasted in his dreams. His kiss was at first very slow, tentative, almost like begging that she let him continue. A few seconds passed and he felt her respond, biting his lower lip playfully. Then the kiss turned passionate, heated.  
  
It took quite a while for Ryota to notice the phone was ringing in the background. He broke off the touch of their lips gently, remembering to come up for air. He smiled down at her, their arms still motionless since they started kissing.  
  
"I'm not answering it," he said, brushing his nose against hers.  
  
"I thought so," she told him, closing her eyes, welcoming him yet again.  
  
And so their lips met once more, teasing each other every now and then. They vaguely heard the answering machine take up the call.  
  
"Hey, Miyagi here. You know what to do. Name, number, and we'll get back to you as soon as we can."  
  
"Miyagi, you there? It's me, Mitsui. Listen, Ayako's mom called – "  
  
Ryota and Ayako stopped what they were doing.  
  
" – asking me if I knew where Ayako was. I said I didn't know. Is she there? It's getting late, her mom's getting worried. Anyway, if Ayako's not at your place, then ja."  
  
Ryota chuckled. "Time's up, I guess."'  
  
He straightened himself, feeling his lower back complain with cramps, but not minding at all. He looked at Ayako to make sure what happened wasn't just a figment of his imagination. It wasn't. Everything was real. But he noticed that all of a sudden she held herself rigid.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, understanding her dilemma. "I didn't intend to detain you this long. Your mom's looking for you now."  
  
Ayako was still sitting down, her mouth slightly open, her eyes staring into space.  
  
He touched her hand. "Hey, I had no idea I could kiss this good," he laughed.  
  
What he said made her eyes settle on him. She let him help her to her feet. They were still facing each other. "Taking the credit all for yourself, ne, Ryota?" she countered.  
  
"Aya-chan, I love you."  
  
She placed her hands on his face. "Listen…." she began. She still called him by the same old name, but her eyes held him sweetly.  
  
He shook his head and stepped back from her. "No, you don't have to say back the words right now," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "I just wanted to tell you again, so that you wouldn't forget."  
  
She nodded, unable to say anything more. She studied him as he picked up her things and neatly returned them to her bag.  
  
He walked her past the door and to the street. "I'll tell my mom you said goodbye."  
  
"Yes, please do," she replied honestly. "I want to see her again some other time."  
  
"You're more than welcome to drop by whenever you like."  
  
They fell silent for some minutes, just looking at the bright stars and feeling acutely aware of each other, until Ayako whispered Ryota's name.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
She seemed to be avoiding looking at him. "Uh, please, don't tell anyone just yet… about us."  
  
He studied her profile in the moonlight. She was so beautiful, and he was so lucky. "Sure, I understand."  
  
She turned her head towards him. But before she could speak, he held two fingers against her soft lips.  
  
"Sssh. I know those bakas would definitely tease us and wouldn't leave us alone. I can't see you putting up graciously with that. Besides, your mom might get the wrong idea when you tell her about us tonight, especially tonight. So yeah, let's just keep things simple, and wait for the right timing."  
  
A smile appeared on her face. "Yes, you do understand."  
  
"Hey, your mom might ground you if you go home later than it already is," he reminded her, giving her a quick touch on the cheek. "I'll just see you at school."  
  
With that, they said their goodbyes. He watched longingly as she walked away, missing her already.  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
This is for all Ryota-Ayako freakos out there, especially to Nightjade. But even if you're not, I hope you still enjoyed this installment. Please tell me what you think, because, hehe, we all know that reader reactions get the writers thinking. Hmm, so what happens next? You'll see. ^_^ 


	3. Chap 3

Just a note, minna: when Ayako is alone, she refers to Miyagi and Mitsui by using their first names. You don't exactly expect her to be formal with *them* even in her thoughts, ne? ^_^  
  
Again, I may have twisted the facts a bit, but it's to suit the fic!  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
It was Monday morning, an hour and a half before classes started. Ayako lay on her bed, still in her underwear, thinking deeply and staring at the ceiling.  
  
She remembered something about the subtleties of kissing that a classmate of hers told her several years ago: that a girl can tell a guy has strong lips if she can feel a weakening sensation in the knees. With Ryota, she felt it *everywhere.* She hadn't even been able to lift a finger. Even now, just by closing her eyes, her heart speeds up and she can almost picture him kissing her first softly, then ardently. She sighed. The last time she had such a memorable kiss like that was with..  
  
Ayako sat up, rubbing her eyes forcefully. Frowning, she reached for her school uniform and began dressing.  
  
It was quite freaky, how Hisashi managed to interrupt her and Ryota. It was as if he was watching, as if he knew exactly what was going on. As if he wanted nothing more than to stop them.  
  
But what she feared might happen already did.  
  
She was falling for Miyagi Ryota, that much she was sure of. Since day one, she found him attractive, and the gleaming ear stud never failed to do something weird to her heart even now. But she had tried to ignore him and his charms, naively presuming it was just infatuation and infatuations were better left open to chill in the wind. She had given it her best to look cool and passive, but last Saturday turned her world upside down.  
  
Ryota had said he understood. But no, he didn't. *Ryota, you don't even know anything*, she admitted ruefully to herself. She didn't really expect she would return his feelings one day. Well, fine, maybe she thought so once or twice before, but she always told herself it would be when the seniors graduated and left - when Hisashi graduated and left.  
  
The last thing their team needed was another serious internal fracture or conflict. Sure, Sakuragi and Rukawa clash on a regular basis, but Hisashi and Ryota were somehow different.  
  
*Why did this have to happen now? What am I going to do?*  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
Mitsui lay on his back, clad in only a towel. He glanced at the digital clock beside his bed and noted that 6:07 flashed back at him. It seems he had showered a little too early - there was plenty of time before the morning bell rang. He pillowed his head on his two arms and stared at the ceiling, thinking deeply.  
  
He had in his hands a silver necklace. It was thin and simple, and had a little heart pendant that opened and closed. He never really cared much for jewelry, but this small item was different. There was nothing extraordinary about it, except that the girl who used to wear it *was* extraordinary.  
  
*Aya-chan.*  
  
Mitsui closed his eyes and wondered what was worse - the longing to be with her again or trying to hide that very fact. He thought about the team, Miyagi in particular. He didn't want to be on the opposite side of the fence again from the spirited point guard. *Damn, I miss her so much and I can't even show it.*  
  
He opened the pendant, and for probably the millionth time, rested his eyes on a picture of the two of them. They were younger in the snapshot. His hair was much longer, and his eyes a little more relaxed and laughing. He had his arms around her, and she was beautiful. Her curly locks were shorter, and her head was atop his shoulders. Bright eyes, all smiles - they looked so happy together. And they *were,* Mitsui reminded himself. The times he spent with her made him feel so alive, so special.  
  
*And I threw it all away.*  
  
  
  
***  
  
1:46 before halftime, and they were up against one of the tougher teams in the junior high circuit. As predicted, they were leading so far, but only by six points. Anything can happen.  
  
Mitsui Hisashi was living up to his reputation as the shoo-in for MVP honors, already scoring 16 points and leading his team in the first half. Anyone watching the game can tell he was the backbone of his team. Their opponent was having big problems trying to tame him, as they had yet to tie the score and overtake Mitsui's group. But Tomigaoka Junior High was not to be underestimated; they were strong and had an incredibly loud cheering squad behind them.  
  
The voice that stood out above all else, at least to Mitsui, belonged to a young, cute girl wearing a Tomigaoka Junior High jacket and waving their school's streamers enthusiastically. She was sitting on the bench, along with the substitute players, and would yell her encouragement and criticisms alternately. His attention was caught particularly by a remark he heard her shout just after he made a successful three-pointer..  
  
"What are you doing, guys? Guard Mitsui! Don't leave him alone!"  
  
"But Ayako-san," their point guard complained as he ran past the bench. "He'll bite my head off."  
  
Mitsui hid his grin behind his sweat-soaked jersey.  
  
"He's just all-hype, no substance. I say you stick to him like a leech and show him what we're made of!"  
  
The grin faded from his face. He tried to concentrate as the same point guard now came face to face with him, dribbling the ball fast, seemingly energized by the girl's words. They kept replaying inside his head like an annoying mantra, and next thing he knew the point guard had eluded him and cut into the basket.  
  
Wild cheers erupted throughout the arena as the lead was sliced to four.  
  
"It's alright, Mitsui-san," a teammate of his patted him on the back. "Can't win 'em all."  
  
He nodded with a laugh, a sound that seemed to him forced and hollow. Who was that girl?!  
  
During halftime, while their coach was discussing plays and strategy with the other players, he sneaked away and went to find the locker room of their opponent. Sure enough, he saw her standing outside, fanning herself and looking quite pensive.  
  
"Ahm, excuse me."  
  
She whipped her head around, not expecting anyone, much less a Takeishi player, to be loitering about. He saw her eyes widen upon seeing the number 4 on his jersey.  
  
"I didn't mean to overhear what you said a while ago, but I did. Anyway, I'm just interested in learning what you meant when you said 'all hype, no substance?'"  
  
If she was alarmed, she definitely didn't show it.  
  
Mitsui stared back at her, finding out that her eyes were deep and beautiful and almost ethereal and that they were frowning under her furrowed eyebrows. She was even prettier up close.  
  
"I was just making an observation."  
  
"And a wrong one, I might add."  
  
She closed her fan with a snap. "You have quite a high opinion of yourself, don't you?" she shot back.  
  
"I have my reasons."  
  
Mitsui saw one of her smooth eyebrows arch up. The gesture was an obvious rebuff.  
  
Nobody questioned his skills and abilities. Coaches from countless high schools were falling over their faces just to recruit him, but this. *this* girl was unimpressed. The little, simple fact wormed its way into Mitsui's stomach and unsettled him. He was about to give her a piece of his mind when the door to the locker room creaked open.  
  
"Ayako-san," a tall, dark-haired boy Mitsui recognized as one of the more popular newcomers, said. He looked at Mitsui for a few seconds before proceeding. "You're needed inside."  
  
She nodded. "I'll be right there, Rukawa."  
  
The door closed again and she turned to look at him, only to see that he was looking at her intently. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing. Your name. I like it. A-ya-chan."  
  
"Why don't you go back to your team already? You're not even supposed to be here," she told him dismissively, wrinkling her nose.  
  
He stepped closer, he couldn't help it. He saw her hand inch towards the doorknob, but he blocked it with his body. "Are you scared I'm spying on you guys?"  
  
"Oh not at all. We'll beat you."  
  
"You honestly believe that?" he asked with a small laugh.  
  
"Yes, I do," she stated seriously.  
  
"Are you willing to bet on that?"  
  
"You ask too many questions." And before Mitsui knew what hit him, her small frame shoved him aside and slipped past the door.  
  
  
  
***  
  
As soon as the whistle blew for the beginning of the second half, Mitsui was on fire. He became an even worse nightmare for Tomigaoka, if that was possible. Assists, steals, rebounds, blocks, three-pointers - he combed almost every inch of the playing court. He was everywhere. His field goal percentage was a whopping 14-for-16. He was nearing the triple double- figure mark.  
  
He always gave his best when he played, but this time was a bit more significant. He was insulted, which never happened before, and he felt like redeeming himself with a vengeance. But most of all, he wanted to impress.  
  
After one of his most loudly cheered shots in the game - a steal and a deep penetration on his way to the basket - he jogged past the enemy's bench and gave a mocking bow to her. To Ayako. Of course, the rest of the Tomigaoka side thought he was simply being an arrogant bastard to them, but he knew she knew it was solely for her.  
  
During one time out, when the score was 58-50, Takeishi still leading, he watched her from the corner of his eyes as she delivered uplifting speeches to her team. Her eyes even traveled to him, but when she discovered that *he* was watching her, pretended to not notice.  
  
When he was sent to the free throw line with less than two minutes to play, he made sure he gave her a charming smile before throwing the ball up in the air and through the net. She was fuming red and he liked it very much.  
  
Tomigaoka attempted resurgence, and even managed to lead by four at one point, but Takeishi proved to be too much of a handful. The nail on the coffin came with 12 seconds in the game, courtesy of a three-pointer by Mitsui. He dared to shoot over three towering players waving their hands frantically in front of him, and he got away with it. His knees gave him the needed push, his arms formed a beautiful arch over his head, his wrists flicked smartly, his hands pointed accurately toward the basket - it was the perfect form, his form. And it was the shot that sealed their victory, 70-64.  
  
The crowd waved and cheered their appreciation for both teams, but the loudest and wildest were reserved for Mitsui Hisashi. Several coaches were even spotted in the bleachers, and his performance, without a doubt, would send them all clamoring for him to join their respective high schools. Some journalists and photographers, who usually cover only high school games, were also there to take pictures of the young star player.  
  
Mitsui would have normally enjoyed all the attention, but his mind was presently centered on locating a certain girl among the thick throng. After the traditional handshake between the two teams, his eyes darted to the Tomigaoka side and failed to find her. Where could she have gone?  
  
"Mitsui-kun," one reporter was saying. "Have you chosen a school already? Is it true that Ryonan High is offering you a scholarship?"  
  
At that moment, he saw a head of curly brown hair move towards the exit, along with the Tomigaoka delegation. Something seized him. He didn't even bother to politely decline the puzzled reporter's queries as he sprinted towards her direction.  
  
"Hey, you lost," he said loudly, grinning.  
  
"Don't rub it in, pal," one of the scowling Tomigaoka players muttered to his face when he got closer.  
  
He waved the bothersome center away. "I'm not talking to you." Then, without knowing what drove him, he reached for her hand.  
  
She abruptly stopped walking, and was forced to duck out of the way of the players to face the cocky guy who now grasped her hand firmly. "What is your problem?" she growled.  
  
"You lost twice - both the game and our bet."  
  
"I don't remember agreeing to any bet."  
  
"Yare, yare. Will you just give me your number?"  
  
She yanked her hand away from his as if he had burned her. "Leave me alone," she told him as she turned to walk away in a hurry.  
  
  
  
***  
  
I didn't focus on Rukawa, because he is not the man of this fic. Let's save the spotlight for jerseys number 7 and 14 (oh, and a certain team manager), ne? Hmm, minna, the flashback I have in mind seems to be destined to turn out much longer than expected, so I decided to cut it into two. I hope to hear from you again - just tell me what you think about this little venture of mine so far. Anyway, Happy New Year!!! ^_^ 


	4. Chap 4

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
Again, I may have twisted the facts a bit, but it's to suit the fic!  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
For days after the game, all Mitsui could think about was her. At first, he merely dismissed it as the side effect of the bruising of the male ego, but one afternoon after classes, when he realized his feet was taking him towards Tomigaoka, he knew it was much more serious.  
  
He waited outside the school gate, leaning his back on a tall tree and trying to hide his face beneath a baseball cap. He didn't want anyone to recognize him, except her. A good hour passed before he spied her coming out of one of the several buildings in the school compound. She was alone.  
  
"I was wondering what was taking you so long," he remarked when she walked by without even noticing him.  
  
As he predicted, she whirled around almost instantly. He saw her mouth open a little in shock.  
  
"So how are you?" he pressed.  
  
She remained rooted to the ground, speechless.  
  
He pushed his weight off the tree and closed the small gap between them.  
  
His motion jolted her back to life. "What on earth are *you* doing here lurking?"  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I am *not* here to do some lurking. I just wanted to see you, that's all."  
  
"Fine, you saw me already," she frowned as she flung her bag over her shoulders.  
  
"I also wanted to walk you home."  
  
"What if I don't want to walk home with such a dubious character as you?" she countered evenly, and he had to hand some credit to her.  
  
"That's too bad. But what are you going to do? Scream? It's useless. Your school's practically deserted."  
  
She did a quick survey of their surroundings to confirm her suspicion. He was right. She shrugged.  
  
"Please?" he tried. "I promise I won't stash you in a sack or anything." He held up his two hands for emphasis.  
  
She couldn't help but laugh softly. "You don't give up, do you?" she asked.  
  
He smiled as he took her bag.  
  
Forty minutes and a couple of ice cream cones later, Mitsui was standing on her doorstep. He enjoyed her company a lot – jabs and teases and laughter and all – and he was quite sure she felt likewise even though she wouldn't admit it. As they were saying their goodbyes, and Mitsui was held momentarily frozen by her smile, it occurred to him that he wouldn't feel satisfied until he got to know more of her.  
  
And that was exactly what he did in the next few weeks. He persisted everyday in traveling all the way to her school after his classes when there was no basketball practice. It was tiring juggling his time and efforts, but it was well worth it, especially when he saw her emerging from the school gate and shaking her head laughingly at him and his stubbornness. During days that there was training, he would call her at home and talk with her about anything under the sun – from favorite movies to top five worst rock songs to most romantic poem to best dessert, and of course, to basketball games. He liked hearing the sound of her voice.  
  
It was new for him, because he had always been fond of girls, but this was the first time he ever got to really *know* a girl. The difference with Ayako and other girls was, after the usual praising and flirting, the conversations would skid to a halt. There was nothing left to talk about. But with her, he was always up on his feet bantering, and sometimes if not that, just plain talking.  
  
"Well, it was nice, but I couldn't understand some of the lines. The people sitting behind us were too noisy," she complained one evening as they were walking home from one of their movie dates.  
  
Mitsui opened his mouth to agree, but when he looked at her and saw the silvery moonlight and the breeze caress her soft hair, he forgot what he was going to say. The night was quiet, the stars were all spread across the sky, the wind was a little cold. His heart was racing. At that moment he knew.  
  
"What would you do if I told you I think I'm falling for you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me."  
  
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "I'd probably laugh."  
  
"You're not laughing now," he said quietly.  
  
A few seconds crept by. Her lashes drifted down, shielding her eyes away from him. "Go home, Hisashi," she whispered before running away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk.  
  
Later around midnight, he called her. "I didn't know you can sprint that fast," he said when he had made sure it was her who answered.  
  
"What do you want?" The remark would have been rude and bruising, had she raised her tone.  
  
"I think it should be obvious."  
  
"Just how serious are you?" her voice broke slightly before he heard the soft click of the receiver.  
  
Mitsui barely slept a wink. The next day, right after practice, he raced as fast as his feet could carry him to her school. He was well aware that Tomigaoka's practice was also over and that the school grounds was probably empty, but his gut told him that that was *exactly* what she wanted him to think.  
  
He stormed his way inside the school's basketball gym. He found her sitting by the bench, writing notes on her pad, seemingly unaware of the intrusion. The only sound he could hear was the scratching of ball pen against paper.  
  
He cleared his throat. She looked up, dropped her pen.  
  
She stood up, but couldn't say anything. He advanced towards her. She retreated.  
  
The distance between them was reduced to mere inches, and she was cornered against the wall. He touched his forehead to hers, feeling her breath against his cheek. Then he took her hand and rested it on the back of his neck.  
  
"I am *this* serious," was all he said before he locked his lips with hers.  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Happy anniversary," he said with a smile.  
  
He and Ayako were sitting on the docks by the ocean. They had taken their shoes off, their feet dangling freely below them.  
  
He handed her a tiny blue velvet box. When she opened it, the expression on her face caused a tightening in his chest.  
  
"H-how?" she stammered, staring at the beautiful, sparkling silver necklace lying on her palm.  
  
"Had to rob a bank, that's all," he quipped, running his hand through his windswept hair.  
  
She flung her arms around him and he closed his eyes contentedly. "You didn't have to," she went on.  
  
Gently, he pulled away from her embrace. "Didn't have to what? Get you this gift or rob a bank?"  
  
She teasingly hit his shoulder. "I can't believe this. Look at what I bought you." From her pocket, she fished a tinier, red velvet box.  
  
His eyes widened. Inside, a small, silver heart-shaped pendant twinkled at him in greeting.  
  
"I was going to suggest that we both save for a thin necklace to go along with this. But it seems you read my mind," she told him.  
  
He gazed wordlessly at her hands as she opened the pendant for him. It revealed a picture of the two of them that captured precisely how they felt about each other. He couldn't explain it, but looking at the photograph brought back memories of when he first saw her, how their arguments and repartees led to friendship, how their friendship went to something sweeter and deeper. And how in their short time together she made him feel so wonderful, alive, and special.  
  
He threaded the little pendant through the chain, and with a soft smile, gently clasped it around her neck. They held hands the rest of the afternoon as they shared their dreams with each other and watched the sun disappear into the horizon, staining the ocean with a beautiful shade of red-orange.  
  
***  
  
Contrary to their first meeting, she became very supportive of him. One glance in her direction during crucial points in games would calm him and make him feel stronger. After his team had won, he would run to the bleachers first and hug her tightly before dashing back to his teammates to celebrate with them. She was his lucky charm.  
  
"Maybe I should transfer to Takeishi," she reflected once, after he had asked her to watch one of his trainings. The idea didn't seem so bad, he told her as much, only to be informed that she was only joking. "My teammates wouldn't exactly like that. Loyalty, you know," she replied, to which he just snorted.  
  
"You're going to win MVP honors, then become the top high school player in the whole of Japan," she would say in that endearingly prophetic manner of hers. "I can just feel it."  
  
He was touched every single time he heard her saying the words, because it used to be only his dream. Now, he had someone to share it with.  
  
But he didn't count on the possibility that it was that very dream that would cause the first crack in their relationship.  
  
As she predicted, he took home the much-coveted MVP award, and along with it, swamps of offers from various high schools, meetings with hopeful coaches, interviews, and a whole new set of friends – most of whom were girls. His name was known throughout the whole junior high prefecture, and his forthcoming entrance into high school resulted to quite a stir.  
  
He was a celebrity – it didn't happen overnight, it took a lot of hard work, which was why he enjoyed it greatly. He would be lying if he said he didn't. He was changing, transforming into a different person, and he couldn't stop it.  
  
Before he knew it, dates with Ayako had to give way to matters revolving around his basketball future, and oftentimes he would cancel on her at the last minute. He didn't have the time to dally anymore. Decisions had to be made, answers had to be given, school boards had to be satisfied. She understood the first few times he bailed out, but very soon he came testing her limits.  
  
"But we've been planning this for weeks," she said flatly when she opened the door one evening and found him standing on the doorstep, thrusting a bouquet of flowers into her hands.  
  
She was dressed and ready, he wasn't. He was wearing casual jeans and a shirt, with a cap shoved backwards on his head.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Aya-chan, but I can't get out of it. Even my parents are coming along. There's this one coach who wants to bring us to – "  
  
"I thought you've decided on Anzai-sensei already."  
  
"Well, just exploring, you know."  
  
She expelled a sigh and closed her eyes. "I sure hope your new friends aren't tagging along in this exploring of yours."  
  
"Why not?" he asked, taken aback.  
  
"You know I don't like them."  
  
"Aww, not again," he answered with obvious irritation, running his fingers through his hair, sending the cap to the ground.  
  
She leaned against the doorway to block the argument they were having in case her parents wandered off near them. "They're a bunch of cocky, no- good boys. They only like you because you're popular. They don't really care about you. I can take the girls, Hisashi, but not those brats," she delivered in a rush.  
  
Her words stung. He bent down angrily to retrieve his cap. "You don't know them," he told her.  
  
"And I don't know you."  
  
Just then, Ayako's mother appeared at her back, smiling kindly at Mitsui. "Hello, Hisa-kun. I thought you were going out with Ayako tonight."  
  
Ayako shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. "No, mom, he's too busy for that." And before he could utter another word, Ayako slammed the door to his face.  
  
The following week, she was sitting at the Takeishi bench, watching him shoot some hoops by himself. The two of them had patched things up, but somewhere in his mind, it occurred to him that neither of them had mentioned a word about an apology.  
  
"Mitsui!"  
  
He stopped dribbling and glanced at the door, but from the corner of his eyes, saw Ayako frown as the newcomers approached him.  
  
"Do you have time? We just thought it would be a great idea if you can join us," his friend said with a wink.  
  
"Where to?" he found himself replying.  
  
"He borrowed his dad's car. We're going to have a little joyride, maybe even swing by Shoyo. You know, see some girls," his other friend told him, pretending to steer a wheel in his hands.  
  
Mitsui laughed off the jibe and pointed to Ayako. "Guys, you've met my girlfriend."  
  
"Hi," they waved, and to his relief, she waved back, although not with the same enthusiasm.  
  
"Is this ok?" he asked her when he told his friends he needed to talk with Ayako alone.  
  
She shrugged as he hurriedly took off his wet shirt and flung it inside his knapsack. "If I say no, can I stop you?"  
  
The fresh shirt caught on his nose on its way down, and for a few moments, the two of them held each other's stares. Finally, she looked away and he finished dressing. "Don't you trust me?"  
  
She flinched when he was about to touch her cheek. "I don't trust them."  
  
"Don't start," he warned, his eyes tightly shut, but there was no stopping him from hearing her words.  
  
"Why won't you listen? They're with you because you make them look good!"  
  
"You don't get it!" he spat, not caring if his friends heard his loud outburst. He spun around and stalked away from her, but after a few steps he stopped. "My graduation's next week. Are you….?" He trailed off, trying to regain his composure.  
  
"It's also my brother's graduation."  
  
"I guess this means you're not coming."  
  
"This means a lot of things."  
  
Mitsui didn't even bother to answer his friends' questioning looks as they left the gym.  
  
***  
  
"Don't tell us you have a girlfriend, Hisa-kun," one stunning high school sophomore giggled. "It would break our little hearts." Her companions nodded their assent, smiling and showing a lot of pearly white teeth.  
  
What else could he say to that? "No, I don't have one," he offered, matching the sweetness of the girls' expressions and wondering why sweat was snaking down his back. A few minutes later, a perfumed paper with phone numbers written on it was handed to him. He grinned as he tucked it safely inside his pocket. Girls were coming on to him faster than he could even handle.  
  
However, he wasn't prepared for the one girl standing not three feet away from him, her hands hanging limply by her side.  
  
"Aya-chan," he whispered incredulously. "I thought you said you couldn't make it. What about your brother's - "  
  
"I lied, just like what you did a while ago."  
  
His eyes traveled over her, taking in the simple elegance of her black formal dress, her wavy hair hanging down in small, gentle spirals.  
  
"I mean, last time I checked, you had a girlfriend, right, Hisashi?"  
  
Loosening his tie, he sought for answers, but she spoke again. "What's happening to us? Things aren't the way they used to be. I don't understand you anymore, and I doubt you understand me," she said slowly, her voice barely audible above the commotion in the auditorium.  
  
"Maybe I simply don't need a girlfriend right now," he responded, his hands balled into fists inside his pockets.  
  
"I see," she murmured as she turned to walk away.  
  
But he wasn't about to let the two of them end this way. He caught up with her, clasped her hand in his, and looked intently at her face until she met his eyes. "I'm sorry. You don't know how much I hate myself right now. It's just… well, my feelings for you haven't changed, you *know* that, just as you know the other girls mean nothing to me. But we're both growing up and it seems we're walking different directions. And I'll be in high school in a few months' time. It'll be hard seeing each other like we always do. I'll meet more people, and I'm sure you will too. It'd be quite selfish if I just keep you all to myself, ne, especially now that I'm making you unhappy?"  
  
"Hisashi…"  
  
"You've been wonderful, Aya-chan. You're the first girl I've ever opened up to and cared about, and you'll always be my Aya-chan. But, at the moment, I think we'd be better off without each other. Maybe in high school, maybe. Who knows…?"  
  
She was giving a valiant effort not to cry, but a few drops had slipped from her lashes. She untangled her hands away from his hold and reached up around her neck. "Then I guess I don't have the right to wear this anymore."  
  
She avoided meeting his startled eyes as she placed the necklace on his hand, then closed it with a light kiss. "Bye. I'll be seeing you around, ok?" was all she said before walking away from him.  
  
But they didn't see each other for the next two years or so. And the many things that happened to him in high school served as a bitter reminder for him. It didn't take Mitsui long to realize how Ayako was right about his friends. They were kind and warm and fun to hang around with, but when freshman year rolled by and he got injured, they all flew away one by one. Last thing he heard about them was that they were enrolled at Shoyo, and that they didn't even make the basketball team there.  
  
He felt so foolish, so miserable for having been left out at Shohoku. He was supposed to be the ace player, the savior, the captain, but his injury got in the way and he fell by the wayside. All those dreams and expectations – and hype, as Ayako once said a long time ago – came crumbling down into a pile of rubble. Mitsui Hisashi failed.  
  
It would have been nice if he had had someone to support and help him back on his feet, and several times he even came close to finding Ayako, but his wounded pride demanded he seek comfort someplace else. He couldn't have taken the look on her pretty face had they met again and the reality of what he did would descend on both of them.  
  
He had let his parents, Ayako, Anzai-sensei, and most of all himself, down. And his downward spiral worsened when he allowed himself to be lured by bullies and troublemakers to be one of them. But although these guys were rude and tough, and anyone with a sensible mind would steer clear of their path, they were real friends compared to the ones he had in junior high. He and Tetsuo and the others may have contrasting interests – for one thing, nobody in the group shared his love of basketball, but that was exactly what was helpful. When they were all together, Mitsui wasn't reminded of the many damn what-ifs. It was easier to just blend back into the background, and forget.  
  
Several times he found himself hating basketball and sour-graping about hopes and dreams he once had. Several times his friends fixed him up with a date, some were pleasant, but none really worked. He almost convinced himself he was over everything, until the day he bumped into Miyagi. Something white hot let loose inside him all of a sudden. Here was a guy who had two of the things that mattered most to Mitsui: Ayako and basketball.  
  
But perhaps what angered Mitsui the most, was the realization that he still cared, that he still hadn't forgotten, that he had lied to himself for so long.  
  
***  
  
Mitsui felt the necklace bite into the flesh of his palm as he tightened his grip and closed his eyes. It still pained him every time his mind took him on a journey back to the mistakes he had done, to the people he had disappointed and hurt. If only he hadn't wasted so much time….  
  
He rose off the bed, unwrapped the towel from his body, and started getting ready for school.  
  
It was extremely tough trying to rebuild himself, but he was getting there, one sure step at a time. Life's kind of humor was twisted, for there was a time when Mitsui swore he'd bring down Shohoku. Now, he formed part of the soul of the team. He didn't expect to be welcomed back, but he was, by everyone. And most surprising of all was the friendship he and Miyagi had struck together.  
  
Why did Miyagi have to like Ayako too?  
  
At least, Miyagi had things going easy for him. There were days when Mitsui thought he couldn't stand anymore hearing his friend talk about how special Ayako was, or seeing the two of them stand close to each other, or trying to figure out if the "Go Ryota!" she often exclaimed meant something more.  
  
Mitsui finger-combed his hair, padding barefoot towards the mirror on the inside of his cabinet. He still clutched the necklace in his hand. Someday soon he had to decide what to do.  
  
Until then, all he could have is dreams of putting the necklace around Ayako's neck once more, where it belongs.  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
Now that was a flashback that had me biting my nails for weeks. -_- I'm glad it's finished now.  
  
This is for all Mitsui fans out there, I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you to everyone who's reviewed my work. I can't say enough how helpful those were. As always, let me know what you think, ok? 


	5. Chap 5

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
1 Chapter 5  
  
  
  
The teacher's back was facing the students as he scrawled intimidating algebraic equations on the blackboard. Ryota focused his eyes ahead, as if willing the green surface of the board to come to life, but it remained flat and lifeless. The next destination of his eyes was the girl sitting not far from him, her head bowed down, her hands diligently taking down lecture notes.  
  
Did he do something wrong? Why was she avoiding him?  
  
This morning, as well as the past few ones, he had come but a few steps near her and felt ice slap his face. After what happened between them last Saturday, it was to be expected that they would at least spend some more time together, that he would drop by her house and walk with her to school. But he always learned from her mother that she had already left. Inside the classroom and even the gym, she did her best to stay away from him, refusing to meet his eyes, exchanging clipped words with him. He might as well have been a fly on the wall. Even phone calls were useless – there was always a reason why she couldn't talk to him.  
  
It almost made him doubt if they really had that wonderful, passionate kiss. Almost.  
  
Ryota buried his face into his palms and groaned silently. Maybe she was scared. Or maybe this was part of the bargain they had – that no one should know yet – and he was simply being a poor paranoid idiot. Or maybe she changed her mind and regretted their….  
  
He couldn't stand it. It was better when the two of them had still been playing mind games with each other, when the flirting was something he looked forward to very much. At least then, he could be with her without having her shrink back. At least then, he knew where he stood.  
  
Now he was thrown way off course.  
  
***  
  
Words struggled to get out of her throat, but she ended up swallowing them down anyway. Her eyes followed his swift, fluid movements across the basketball court, but dropped to the floor when he jogged past her side of the bench.  
  
She couldn't stand it, couldn't stand her own silence. The knife in her chest twisted a notch higher each time she felt his eyes on her, full of questions and pain. But she had to remind herself that once she allowed herself to get close to Ryota again, her eyes would give her away. He would soon know how much she wanted to be in his arms, run her fingers through his hair, and whisper how she really felt about him. And once she started to speak, she wouldn't be able to stop. Then *everyone* would know about them.  
  
"Miyagi, I'm open! Pass!" shouted a tall, dark-haired figure from behind the three-point arc. It took Ayako a couple of seconds to see through the tears pricking her eyes and recognize the player as Mitsui.  
  
The ball whizzed just as surely from Miyagi's hands and into Mitsui's, before sailing in the air and going through the basket.  
  
"Damn!" Sakuragi swore, his hands on his hips. "Micchy, why don't you just go back to refereeing again? Tell him, Ayako-san."  
  
Taking a deep breath and blinking back the wetness furiously before anyone saw her, she pushed off the bench. "One minute and eight seconds to play!" she announced, not paying attention to Sakuragi's request.  
  
No way. She'd rather have Hisashi play than have him sit beside her again. She sighed, willing herself to concentrate on her task of refereeing. Mitsui had just crossed the half court and was passing to Kogure when Rukawa intercepted the ball. No foul, she decided. It was a clean cut.  
  
She was watching the game closely, but part of her was drawn towards Hisashi. She saw him lift one corner of his mouth in a small smile and mutter an expletive under his breath as Rukawa converted the turnover to a dunk.  
  
She recognized the look. He always had that expression when he was either annoyed or impressed about something. And as she remembered, it was that look which she had thought made him most handsome. Even now, she would sometimes catch herself holding her breath when she saw that same expression cross his face. It would be a split second later when she would realize that old habits do die hard.  
  
She often wondered what would have happened had Ryota not come into the picture. Perhaps she and Hisashi would have gone back together. Or perhaps not. All she knew was that Mitsui was now a good, and very special, friend. Like they often said, there's always something bittersweet and unforgettable about a girl's first boyfriend, first kiss.  
  
It was the one relationship by which all others will be measured – and these next experiences, more often than not, fall miserably short.  
  
But she can never judge for herself unless Mitsui lets her.  
  
"Ho-ho-ho," Ayako heard from the door, the soft, gentle sound interrupting her thoughts.  
  
Anzai-sensei stepped forward, his two hands clasped behind his back, protruding his wide belly even farther. He waited for the blow of the whistle to end the game, then motioned for everyone to assemble and sit on the floor.  
  
He asked for a ball and was promptly handed one. For several seconds, he seemed to regard the round object with admiration, if not respect. No one spoke as they anticipated what the coach had to say.  
  
"Miyagi-kun, stand up here in front."  
  
Ryota immediately obeyed, pushing his weight from the floor, wiping his face with the front of his shirt. He went to Anzai-sensei's side, and was surprised when the coach thrust the ball into his hands.  
  
"Close your eyes," came the softly spoken command. "Three seconds left in the game. Shohoku has possession of the ball, but is down by one point. You are the point guard, you have the ball in your hands. What are you going to do?"  
  
Ryota's arms and hands extended out instantly for a passing move towards the right.  
  
"Freeze. Open your eyes." The coach touched Miyagi's arm and smiled. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Passing to Mitsui, sensei."  
  
The old man rubbed his full chin, in deep consideration of the reply. "But why to the right?"  
  
"Because he's always there."  
  
"Ho-ho-ho." Anzai-sensei nodded as he patted Miyagi on the shoulder and directed him to return to his seat. The coach turned to study each face before him. "You have grown so close as a team that you can already read your teammates' next movements. You've all memorized each other's actions without even knowing it. As Miyagi-kun demonstrated, it has now become natural and almost effortless to work with each other, and that makes Shohoku an even stronger team."  
  
It was seldom that they had Anzai-sensei talkative, but it wasn't that which caused Ayako's heart to slide slowly towards her feet. As the coach continued with his motivating words and every pair of ears listened carefully, Ayako found herself replaying in her mind what she had just witnessed and heard.  
  
"*You have grown so close as a team that you can already read your teammates' next movements… it has now become natural and almost effortless to work with each other….*"  
  
Ayako gripped the clipboard to her chest, as if seeking warmth it could not give. No matter what happened, she wouldn't allow herself to be the cause of the team's falling apart. They had all worked so hard and diligently for everyday these past months. They had all gone through so many hurdles and sacrifices. They weren't going to stop anytime soon.  
  
She didn't want to be selfish. She didn't want to be with Ryota if it meant having certain friendships destroyed.  
  
The incident where Ryota rushed madly towards Sakuragi in a blind fit of jealousy was still fresh on her mind. He didn't even have anything more than just quick assumptions back then, but he still snapped out of control. What more if he discovered the truth? That she used to be Hisashi's girlfriend… and that he still wants her back? And what if Hisashi knew the *other* truth? That she wanted to be *Ryota's* girlfriend now?  
  
Although Ryota and Hisashi were friends now, it would take a spark such as this to start their mess all over again. Both have hot tempers and violent streaks to match each other's. If they were to be at odds with each other now, at this point, the team would most definitely suffer in the middle. She couldn't imagine how they would work together. One split second of hostility might cost Shohoku a lot. Ryota might not opt to pass to Hisashi, in the same way Sakuragi refuses to cooperate with Rukawa. Or Hisashi might hesitate to screen for Ryota and let the point guard get mangled on his way to the basket. Or they would throw the blame at each other on every given opportunity. Or one wrong glance and they would resort to fists and blood again.  
  
Ayako swallowed the rising lump in her throat.  
  
She noticed that after Anzai-sensei's pep talk, Akagi had the team members do some drills. She caught sight of Ryota and Hisashi running laps side-by- side, grinning at something they found funny.  
  
The smile that touched her lips was anything but happy.  
  
***  
  
Practice was over, and the sound of slamming lockers and running water echoed inside the gym. Most of the club members have gone home, but some preferred to hang out a while and enjoy the humid night breeze.  
  
"Is Rukawa still at it?" Mitsui asked, dunking his head under the cool water from the faucet.  
  
Miyagi peeped through the door. "Yeah, the guy's an animal. Doesn't know when to stop."  
  
"That's because he needs all the training he can get. Unlike this tensai," offered Sakuragi, leaning shirtless against the wall with a rather stupid- looking snicker on his face.  
  
"Yare yare."  
  
The redhead freshman sauntered across the room and poked his face into Mitsui's. "You're just insecure, because you know you're getting old." At the look of outrage on Mitsui's face, Sakuragi turned to Miyagi. "And you, Ryo-chin. You're getting shorter. Hmm, maybe you two should join Rukawa – "  
  
The two advanced towards Sakuragi, their hands fisted and their eyes narrowed menacingly. But before they could reach the sleazy redhead, he had slipped outside, laughing loudly.  
  
Mitsui shook his head, exasperated. "Look at the bright side," he told Miyagi as he dug his hand inside his sports bag to retrieve his towel and fresh shirt. "At least we're left in peace now."  
  
Miyagi's reply was a grunted "Yeah." He appeared to be still fuming over Sakuragi's comment on his height. He plopped down on the floor, kicked off his shoes, then removed his soaked shirt. A tiny glint next to him caught his attention. "I think this is yours," he said, picking up the object.  
  
Mitsui eyed what was in Miyagi's hands. It was a thin, silver necklace.  
  
"You probably dropped it on the floor."  
  
Mitsui crouched and took the necklace silently.  
  
"Say, Mitsui," Miyagi began as he toweled the sweat off his body. "How come you never wear that? I always see you carrying that little thing around in your bag. Is it a lucky charm?"  
  
"I didn't know you liked spying on my stuff."  
  
Miyagi snorted, tossing an empty mineral bottle to Mitsui's frowning face. "What's it for?"  
  
"None of your business."  
  
"You didn't steal that, did you? I didn't know you had a thing for jewelry – "  
  
"Cut it out, ok? I don't wear it because it's not mine."  
  
"Then why do you have it?"  
  
"Why are you so interested?"  
  
"Aha!" Miyagi cried triumphantly, jumping to his feet with a speed that was his trademark, and paced back and forth in front of Mitsui. "Does this have something to do with that girl you were telling me about?"  
  
"I didn't tell you anything about her."  
  
"You're going to, now."  
  
"Dammit, Miyagi," Mitsui snapped, throwing him a disgusted look. "You're nosy, pesky, and irritating. No wonder you get along well with Sakuragi."  
  
Mitsui changed into a new shirt, gathered his things as fast as he could, and went out of the locker room. Minutes later, to his dismay, he found Miyagi trailing behind him, whistling a happy tune. They had just gotten outside of the school compound when Miyagi finally caught up with his long strides.  
  
"Is she someone I know?"  
  
Mitsui stopped and leaned against a nearby tree. A full minute passed. He stuffed his hands inside his pocket, then looked at Miyagi resignedly. "I don't think so."  
  
"Then no need to be all mysterious about it. C'mon, let's get something to eat."  
  
The two of them strolled quietly along the sidewalk, comfortable in each other's silence, passing streets and whole blocks, before stopping in front of a famous bar. There was a long line of twenty-something college students waiting to be admitted inside.  
  
"Sorry, pal. Let's just try that place after five years," Miyagi said, pulling the strap of his friend's bag to urge him on.  
  
But Mitsui's eyes remained rooted to the building. "You underestimate me, Miyagi. Watch and learn." With that, he boldly approached the front of the line and stepped right in front of the burly, sullen security guard. The crowd, including Miyagi, fell silent, worried of what might ensue.  
  
Miyagi saw the face of the guard break into a wide grin before grabbing Mitsui's hand and pumping it energetically. "Mitsui-san! Haven't seen you in ages!" The conversation was soon drowned out as some of the people in line groaned and complained. Whatever Mitsui said to the guard, it was obvious that it had something to do with letting the two of them through, because that was what occurred next.  
  
Despite his rough and tough ways, Miyagi had never been inside a bar, but it appeared Mitsui was an old favorite. He was even greeted by a couple of the bartenders as both of them went looking for a table. The room was dark and cold. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol wafted around the air, along with the noise coming from the billiard tables.  
  
"Two glasses of ice-cold beer," Mitsui told a passing waitress. Minutes later, she returned, sliding the drinks from her tray to the tabletop. "This is on the house. For old times' sake," she informed them with a wink.  
  
"Sheesh," Miyagi whispered when she was out of earshot, spearing his fingers through his hair. "I'm not even going to ask." Mitsui just laughed.  
  
They sipped their drinks as they watched the band perform their first song for the night.  
  
"The necklace belongs to your ex-girlfriend, doesn't it?" Miyagi hollered over the loud noise from the speakers.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Miyagi sat back, the cold glass between his hands, and patiently waited for the rest of the story. The tang of beer lingered not unpleasantly inside his mouth.  
  
"We met in junior high, during a game my school had against hers. There were a lot of more beautiful girls in the crowd then, but I don't know," Mitsui paused, staring at the contents of his glass. "I just saw her and that was it. She was smart, attractive, sexy, and was not afraid to speak her mind and show who's boss."  
  
"Sounds like we have the same taste."  
  
A strange look crossed Mitsui's face but it was gone quickly. "You can say that." His lips spread into a weak smile. "Anyway, we became friends and then later, that friendship evolved into something more serious.  
  
"What I liked most about her was the way she made me feel. It felt so wonderful, like everywhere I went, the skies seemed bluer and I had just won ten MVPs. When I held her hand in mine, it wasn't like we were two separate people anymore. She was me, I was her. And for the first time in my life, I found someone beautiful and special to share things with. I introduced her to my parents, and she did the same.  
  
"The necklace… well," Mitsui hesitated, taking out the silver piece from his bag and laying it on the table. "I gave this to her on our first month anniversary, and it was meant to stand for everything our relationship was.  
  
"But it had to end. They all have to end. When I won the MVP and pressure started pouring in from all sorts of direction, the two of us started to drift apart. Or rather, it was me who did most of the drifting away. I let my pride, my ego get in the way."  
  
Miyagi finished off his beer, and placed his elbows on top of the table. "Shit. What happened?"  
  
Mitsui studied the flickering lights on stage. "On the day of my graduation, I broke up with her. She took off the necklace and returned it to me. It's been with me ever since. But I was hoping that after giving each other the breathing space we needed, we would reconcile in high school. That never came. You know my story, you know what happened to me in my freshman year. And although I've changed, I feel like it's too late for us already."  
  
"Maybe you don't try hard enough to win her again."  
  
"I do. I really do," Mitsui said, downing the last drop of his beer. "I guess I hurt her pretty badly. Damn, I've tried seeing some other girls, but it isn't the same. I want only one. I want her back. When time comes that you'd compare her with other girls you've been with, you'll feel sorry for yourself you let her slip through. She's that kind of girl."  
  
Miyagi closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and his thumb. When he opened his eyes, he trained his gaze on the necklace sparkling on the table surface. "I feel the same way about Aya- chan, so I can honestly say I understand you." He gave Mitsui a quick, light punch on the upper arm. "I wish you luck. Hey, if you and your girl are as made for each other as you told me, then you'll surely find your way back together. Maybe not now, but someday."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
A couple of steaming plates of hamburger and fries and a full pitcher of beer appeared in front of them, and they turned questioning stares at the waitress who delivered the food. She notified them that it was another "on the house" treat.  
  
"So how the hell did you become so popular around here anyway?" Miyagi mumbled around a mouthful.  
  
"Long story, and I think I've told my share of long stories tonight," Mitsui replied, pocketing the necklace. "Your turn."  
  
It took a while for Miyagi to answer. "Well, it's the same old ramblings."  
  
Mitsui regarded him suspiciously over the rim of his glass of beer. "It's not like you to be so shy and secretive about your love life. Face it, you used to parade around with hearts in your eye sockets, but lately, you've barely said a word about her."  
  
Miyagi scowled as he drew circles on the cold, moist body of the pitcher. "Yeah, I'm completely stumped as of the moment. I wish I can read what's going on in her mind." He heaved a sigh. "You must've noticed how she's been ignoring me. I'm losing her, and I'm not even sure if she was mine to lose in the first place."  
  
"You must have done something."  
  
"No, not really. Well, yeah – I did, but I wasn't alone. She… I… we – "  
  
Bright lights flooded the entire room as the band chose an upbeat, catchy song to perform next. Mitsui had to lean closer and shout just to be heard. "I don't understand!"  
  
"Neither do I!" Miyagi yelled in return. He inched his chair nearer to safety as the dance floor soon became packed with loud and wild party animals. He squinted at the frenzied activity and spoke without looking at Mitsui. "Listen, can you keep a secret?"  
  
Upon turning his head and seeing Mitsui nod, Miyagi continued. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone. I made a promise. But I can't… damn, I can't stand it anymore."  
  
"Just fire away."  
  
Preferring to buy his time, Miyagi gulped down a third of the contents of his glass, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I thought that a kiss would make everything fall into place. Hah, if anything, it made matters more complicated."  
  
Mitsui threw a withering look at the mass of flailing arms and legs on the dance floor. "What? I didn't hear you."  
  
Miyagi cupped his palms over his mouth. "I said, Aya-chan and I kissed."  
  
Mitsui apparently heard the statement because he was visibly stunned. He even knocked over his glass, sending it rolling over the edge of the table and crashing into a thousand sharp, amber-colored shards on the floor.  
  
The flashing lights suddenly went out, to be replaced by dark and white rays bouncing off the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. The decibel level also went up a notch higher, giving the room the impression that it was throbbing.  
  
"Are you alright?" Miyagi bellowed.  
  
"I'm fine! The speakers, the bass… they're too – "  
  
"Yeah I know! I can feel the heavy bass pounding in my chest! Do you want to go?"  
  
Mitsui shook his head. "No, no. I'm okay. Just hope they don't sue me for the broken glass." He poured beer on Miyagi's and drank almost half of it. "Back to you and Ayako. Give me the details."  
  
This seemed to amuse Miyagi. "You actually want to hear - ?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, okay. Last Saturday she went over to my place to help me over some lessons. After about an hour, I went out to buy some snacks and when I returned, she was asleep. It happened so fast and yet so slow, you know what I mean? One minute I was leaning over her, telling her stuff I wouldn't dare try with her awake, and the next we were kissing.  
  
"I could hear my blood racing through every vein in my body and feel its warmth spread all over. In those few minutes, life seemed to revolve around my lips and hers. And I almost couldn't breathe. All I could think about was how sweet she smelled, like if I just buried my nose in her hair I'd fall asleep and never wake up." Miyagi held his head between his hands. "Have you ever had anything like that?"  
  
Mitsui's face was hidden in the darkness, but his voice came strong and clear. "Yeah."  
  
Miyagi cleared his throat. "That night I went to sleep thinking – worrying – that when I get up the next day, I'd find out that everything was just an illusion. That when I see her again, she'd still be the same Aya-chan who treated me just like she did everybody else. But what I got was worse. Look at us now! She's steering clear of me like I have a disease or something. And I'm going to pieces trying to figure out what went wrong!" Miyagi looked up from his contemplation of the spilled liquid on the table and met Mitsui's eyes. "That's where you come in."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mitsui, I need your help."  
  
Applause spread inside the bar, and it was only then that the two noticed the lights and the speakers had all gone back to normal. The band members stood up, waved to the crowd, before they took a five-minute break.  
  
"What on earth can I do?"  
  
"Just talk to her, as a friend. Come on, I'm desperate. Ask her why she's torturing me like this." Miyagi smiled weakly at Mitsui. "Tell her I'd do anything just to have things back to normal. Tell her I won't force her into a relationship if that's not what she wants. Tell her I'm sorry if I did anything wrong. Tell her I really miss her. And if she asks you how you found out about us, then just tell her I had no choice."  
  
Mitsui was the first to pull away his gaze and Miyagi slumped forward on his elbows. "Hey, you look like you can't take another drop of beer," the latter observed good-naturedly. "Ha! And I thought you were – "  
  
"Why me, Miyagi?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Why trust me with this?"  
  
Miyagi slammed his palm down the table surface and laughed. "Can you imagine me asking Rukawa for help? Or even Sakuragi? Geez, the guy's alright, but he's too loud and obvious and might just spill all to every student on campus. There's Akagi and Kogure, but the idea makes me sort of queasy." Miyagi paused. "You won my default."  
  
A ball of soggy tissue paper landed on Miyagi's forehead. "Yare yare. I guess I should feel honored then."  
  
"So will you do it?"  
  
"I don't have much of a choice now, do I?"  
  
The band reemerged up front, eliciting chants and cheers from the crowd. Feeling reinvigorated – both from the drinks and the conversation – Miyagi sprang to his feet and joined in on the noise.  
  
It was good he had his back turned, for he didn't see the way Mitsui gripped the edge of the table with white-knuckled intensity.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
Aaah, men and alcohol put together!  
  
An exam and a couple of deadlines for some essays kept me from finishing this at an earlier, faster pace. Sorry I kept you waiting – I hope this is worth it *_*. And yes, I may sound like a broken record, but please, let me hear from you guys again. Your reactions really help more than you think.  
  
Sinful Ai, you're a great person and a great writer. This one's for you. ^_^ 


	6. Chap 6

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
Hi, minna. Ahm, just a few notes ^^. I know that the game between Shohoku and Shoyo-Ryonan never took place in the manga, but for this fic's purposes (my, that sounds very serious, huh?), I'm following the anime storyline.  
  
Also, I'd like to thank those who have followed this little ficcy of mine, and tolerated my delays. My only excuse is this: ah, ok, scratch that. Let's just say schoolwork. Sorry for keeping you hanging sometimes – ah, ok, scratch that *sometimes* part. But you can believe me when I say that when I have free time on my hands, I work on this story.  
  
I'm crossing my fingers that you enjoy this one. Yeah, it's short, but I have my reasons, which will be revealed in due time. ^___^  
  
1  
  
2 Chapter 6  
  
  
  
"You two have been out drinking, haven't you?"  
  
Miyagi bristled at the loud comment and the equally loud laughter that rang afterwards. "Shut up, Hanamichi," he seethed, hazarding a quick glance around the gym.  
  
Unlike his partner in crime, Mitsui merely stood stiffly, a dark expression on his face.  
  
This caused a wide, knowing smile to spread across the redhead's. "Hey Micchy, seems to me you had more than you could handle." He flung the ball he was holding towards Mitsui and was pleased when the ace shooter swatted it away. "Without my display of skill, we would have lost this All- Star game."  
  
"We wouldn't have gone drinking if we knew Shoyo-Ryonan would show up today," Miyagi said indignantly. "Besides, *this* exhibition match was your idea. And hey, we didn't exactly just run around on rubber feet out there. We were still damn good, with or without alcohol, and you know it."  
  
Shiozaki, Yasuda, and the others had already backed away, well aware of the capability of Miyagi and Mitsui when bad-tempered. But Sakuragi had the balls to stick it to them one more time before scampering away. "Ooh, ooh, touchy today, ne, Ryo-chin?"  
  
Miyagi watched the arrogant freshman strut towards the far side of the court to bestow his taunting on a new victim. Hanamichi was just being his annoying, mousy self, but the fact that he had to do it with Fujima, Sendoh, and the other players still in plain view unnerved the point guard.  
  
He stepped closer to Mitsui. "I hate to say it, but Hanamichi's a bit right. What on earth happened to you?" He noted the mean, red streak running across Mitsui's cheeks and nose. It definitely wasn't a mark from exhaustion and sweat.  
  
"I had a couple more bottles when I got home."  
  
"Geez, why'd you do that? You're not really a drinker, and so am I."  
  
Mitsui just shrugged and pretended interest in studying the players of Shoyo-Ryonan say their goodbyes to Anzai-sensei. "Bored."  
  
Miyagi just laughed. "Well, whatever you say. Good thing we won today though. Those guys over there really gave us a surprise." He raised his own hand in the air to acknowledge Fujima's waving at them.  
  
"*I've had my share of surprises lately,*" Mitsui almost gritted out but didn't.  
  
"Although I have to admit it was a good warm-up too," Miyagi went on, flexing his neck and arms. "We'll be leaving for the Inter High in less than a week, and we could really use the mental edge in –"  
  
The rest of Miyagi's words trailed off as Ayako walked past them on her way across the gym floor.  
  
She had an odd expression on her face as she regarded them briefly, as though she was aware of their misdeed last night. "Nice job," she remarked to both of them as she came by, the usual bouncy, spontaneous tone missing from her voice.  
  
Miyagi's sigh was audible as her retreating figure moved away. "At least she notices my existence again." He threw his hands up in the air. "Aaah, women."  
  
When Mitsui didn't respond, Miyagi scratched his head, turning towards the exit door. "Well, I have to be home early to baby-sit my brother. You sure you're fine? Just try sleeping this hangover off." He tapped the taller guy on the shoulder before going out.  
  
Mitsui nodded, though sleep was the farthest thing from his mind.  
  
Inside he felt like going to pieces and running his fist through a door, any door. But what he wanted to do and what he needed to do were two entirely different matters.  
  
He watched Ayako push the scoreboard against the wall to make way for the freshmen, who were mopping the floor. The straight line of her back dipped lithely as she moved. A few hair strands were stuck to her damp, flushed forehead and neck. Mitsui's throat went dry.  
  
"You did a nice job today, Rukawa. You too, Sakuragi," he heard her tell the two players, with what he could only call a considerably livelier attitude than the one she gave him and Miyagi.  
  
Unable to stop himself, he stepped forward and came up beside her. Apparently, she didn't notice him move, for when he closed his hand over her wrist, she jerked her head up.  
  
"I want to talk to you."  
  
"A-about what?"  
  
He didn't answer as he guided her away from the court, making sure no one was looking their way. He gripped the latch with his other hand and pushed open the locker room door, his hold on her still firm.  
  
Once the door closed behind them, he let go of her.  
  
"Do you realize what you just did? Anyone could have seen – "  
  
"What's going on between you and Miyagi?"  
  
The question caught her off guard. She blinked, and he whirled around to face the mirror instead.  
  
"Nothing," she replied, recovering quickly. "And it's none of your business."  
  
He stared intently at her reflection. "I'm making it my business."  
  
She glared at him, hands on her slim hips. "Fine, but you're not blind. You've seen me ignoring and avoiding him. What else do you want to know?"  
  
"I meant *before* that, before you started ignoring and avoiding him."  
  
Ayako's heart thumped wildly against her ribs. She wanted to step back, increase the distance between the two of them, but found that she couldn't bring herself to budge. She also couldn't form a coherent response in her mind.  
  
He never removed his eyes from her. "I think I have a pretty good idea already," he said slowly. "But I want to hear it from you."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," she countered, although it sounded every bit as banal and useless to her ears.  
  
"You don't know? You forgot that he kissed you, or damn, you kissed him? I don't know which way it was, but you two did something."  
  
She gasped, her hand flying towards her mouth to stifle the sound. "Where did you hear that?"  
  
"Doesn't matter."  
  
"Where did you hear that?" she repeated, this time her voice rising.  
  
"From Miyagi."  
  
His back was facing her, but from the mirror, she could see how hard his jaw was set. "And you believed him?" How could this have happened? How could Miyagi break his prom-  
  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
  
Ayako knew a split second of panic before her instincts snagged on an idea and took over. "Because he's lying and dreaming."  
  
Finally, for the first time in their conversation, Mitsui turned around to face her. He gave her a look that clearly asked if she was sure.  
  
"You should know me better than that, Hisashi. He's been after me for ages, and I've never paid any attention to him. I mean, come on. Even if I did, Ryota's just a silly, sometimes annoying, guy. Did you honestly think I'd take him seriously?"  
  
The sound of a ball falling softly to the floor, and bouncing almost inaudibly, pierced the air and stopped Mitsui from answering her.  
  
Her wide eyes locked with his. He was as stunned as she was.  
  
The small hairs on Ayako's neck stood hot and prickly. Even before she spun around, she already knew who stepped from behind the lockers.  
  
She swallowed hard. "Ryota."  
  
He had an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
"H-how long have you been listening?" she asked him, and it suddenly struck her that the question seemed sharply familiar. It seemed a long time ago when he was the one who asked her a question almost like this, but in a completely different scenario.  
  
But she also knew his answer would be the same.  
  
"Long enough."  
  
  
  
  
  
*** 


	7. Chap 7

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it.  
  
**Cyam peeks from under a rock** Yes, I am still living and very much part of the world. ^^ Minna, I'm truly sorry for pulling off a disappearing act like that. I tell you, if I could have flushed my schoolwork down the toilet, I would have. But as it turns out, I ended up crawling through three hideous exams, three reports on Henry James, Hawthorne, and Pre- Raphaelite poetry, and one term paper. I feel like a moron for ranting at length before I allow you to read on, but please, I just needed to unleash!!! -_-  
  
Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, here comes Chapter 7. It's also short, but I have my reasons ^^. And hopefully, Chap8 wouldn't take as long to drag out of my chest.  
  
All of your reviews and reactions – including the nasty one – helped a lot. But there's one person whom I really have to pull out into the open and thank with a bang. Hey Lor, I hope you enjoy this because if it weren't for you, I would have finished this in June. Hehe. Good luck in college! ^^  
  
  
  
1 Chapter 7  
  
Ayako couldn't do anything but watch Ryota calmly, very calmly, approach the door and go out.  
  
She threw a quick, stricken glance at Hisashi.  
  
Cold sweat broke out on her forehead, trickled down her chest and back. She didn't know if she should explain to Hisashi or run after Ryota first. In the end, the stronger impulse won over and she dashed outside the locker room.  
  
But Ryota was nowhere to be seen. In the precious seconds she spent in deciding her next move, he had already disappeared.  
  
"Where did he go?" she asked loudly, barely containing her breath.  
  
The four or five freshmen paused in their cleaning and scrubbing and looked startled at her. But seeming to understand, they pointed towards the exit.  
  
Ayako flung the gym's wide metal doors open and felt air bite her skin in one whoosh. Why didn't Ryota keep his word? And why did he have to tell *Hisashi*, of all people? Why, why, a dozen why's buzzed around her ears and she had to stand still to be able to think well.  
  
But the whirring in her head refused to leave her alone. Why was Ryota there to hear her say that lie? She remembered the pained, dulled look she saw in his eyes when she discovered his presence too late, much too late.  
  
She had to find him fast.  
  
She made a frantic run to their classroom, the several alleys in Shohoku's campus, the canteen, and the parking lot. She searched every corner of the school where he might have gone to, but couldn't find a trace of him. The hour stretched. The longer she took in locating Ryota, the harder it would be later for her to face him and explain herself.  
  
Standing alone and chilled in the middle of the dark school grounds, she felt the beginnings of hot tears tighten her throat. Where was he?  
  
And that was when the idea hit her.  
  
***  
  
The soft sound of a guitar playing halted Ayako in her tracks, making her hold her breath. The music coming from the window was sad, her eyes almost drifting shut to feel the melancholy that came with each strike of the chords. She instinctively knew who was cradling the instrument in his strong arms and playing it as she listened.  
  
Before her courage could desert her, she knocked on the brown, hard surface of the door. The melody stopped. She could hear footsteps coming towards her and she took a deep breath to brace herself.  
  
But when the door creaked open and light spilled from the inside, she found herself staring into the smiling eyes of a little boy no taller than three feet.  
  
"Onii-chan, it's for you," the chubby boy said, and surprised her by taking her hand and pulling her inside.  
  
And then she saw him. Standing by the couch, his hands hanging down his sides, the guitar resting comfortably against the floor pillows. Their gazes met and held, and for a moment she forgot about the boy whose hand grasped hers, until Ryota spoke.  
  
"Thank you, Hiroshi. Now why don't you watch TV in my room?" He was talking to the young kid, but he continued to fix his stare on her.  
  
"But I want you to play again. Don't you think he's great with that guitar?" The little boy beamed at her, tugging her arm.  
  
"I think he's wonderful."  
  
Her honest reply delighted the young boy. "Hear that? Your girlfriend thinks you're wonderful."  
  
Ryota looked away, breaking the contact of their gazes, but not before she saw him flinch with his brother's words. "Later, I promise. For now, why don't you just watch cartoons?"  
  
The suggestion was thought over seriously. "OK. See you later!" the young boy finally let go of her hand, then ran towards the room which she guessed was Ryota's.  
  
Now that they were alone, he shoved his hands inside his pockets and avoided looking at her. He mumbled something about her taking a seat and she gratefully accepted, for she was sure her knees would give out soon if she didn't.  
  
"Uhm, I didn't know you had a brother," she began after a long stretch of awkward silence. "Or that you can play the guitar."  
  
"Why should you? I'm someone you don't take seriously."  
  
"Ryota…." His softly spoken words merely echoed what she said to Hisashi earlier, and it hurt more than she could ever imagine. At that point she was sure she would rather have him flare up and snap out of control. Anything but the silent, accusing look he was giving her now.  
  
As if attracted by an unknown pull, Ayako's eyes floated over the horsehair sofa near the wall. The horsehair sofa they both remembered too well. He must have felt it too, for he slowly followed the line of her gaze. Seconds pregnant with meaning and memory passed between them as they both lost themselves in that one afternoon when a kiss made everything and nothing seem important.  
  
"Don't," he voiced hoarsely when she rose from her seat to approach him.  
  
Don't what? She didn't understand, but seeing him close his eyes as if he was in real pain gave her the sinking feeling that she knew what he meant.  
  
"Don't make things harder," he finished.  
  
"Ryota, please. You have to hear me out."  
  
For the first time since they were left alone, he met her eyes squarely. She immediately wished he hadn't.  
  
"I think I've heard enough."  
  
"No, you haven't. What I told Mitsui, it was just –"  
  
"I get it, don't worry. It's just that… if you knew from the start you couldn't feel the same way for me, you really didn't have to play games –"  
  
She closed the distance between them and boldly placed her two hands on his shoulders. "Ryota, I just didn't want Mitsui to find out about –"  
  
"You didn't want anyone to know about us. You were too ashamed, and at least now I know why."  
  
God, if he only knew how it hurt her that she hurt him. "That's not fair."  
  
"Not fair? Tell me who's being unfair here."  
  
Why didn't he just yell at her? Why did he have to fight back so weakly? She didn't know which of them would succumb to tears first, and if she were the one, would he also misunderstand that?  
  
He closed his hands over hers and lifted them from off his shoulders. He brought them between their bodies. Her head dropped down to look. At that instant it struck her how perfect their hands were together.  
  
"Aya-ch-," he broke off abruptly, realizing his slip. "Ayako, I… For a moment I thought we had something wonderful. I guess it was too good to be true." He offered a wan smile as he led her towards the door and let go of his hold on her.  
  
She couldn't say anything. He didn't want her to say anything. She opened her mouth for one final attempt, but he beat her to it….  
  
"Please don't try telling me you're sorry, because I don't think you can be any sorrier than I am."  
  
Neither of them was crying, but she knew – she just knew – that once the door closed behind her, the tears would start falling.  
  
  
  
  
  
*** 


	8. Chap 8

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it, even the grand amount of three pesos I have in my wallet. ^^  
  
Well, surprise, surprise. I came home one day from school with plans of starting my term paper on Supernatural Lit, but this chapter came out instead ^^. I hope that should tell you how much you people mean to me. **Cyam does the chicken dance** Besides, I don't like it when you tell me stuff like, "Finish your fic already or die!" Although I have to admit, threats can prove to be a helpful lot most of the time. LOL!  
  
Minna, again, thank you for everything! Please let me know how you find this part. It can be any of the ff: A. Nice, B. Duhhh…., C. Go home and plant a tomato. Of course, I'd also appreciate it if you can come up with reactions more articulate than that! ^_____^  
  
To Arwen, whose words can inspire anyone. Other writers, try her some time. Heehee.  
  
  
  
1 Chapter 8  
  
That brief second that their eyes met, he had still hoped for a chance. But when she had decided to rush out after Miyagi, Mitsui recognized defeat. Ayako didn't realize it, but with that simple gesture, Mitsui knew she had made her choice.  
  
He just didn't know what happened afterwards. He was left alone inside the locker room with only his thoughts to nurse him. Did she admit everything to Miyagi? Did they fight?  
  
Mitsui shook his head absently as he caught the pass from Rukawa. Miyagi would never allow himself to argue, or fight, or even raise his voice at Ayako. That was where he and Mitsui were different. And now, Mitsui couldn't help but ask himself if that one dissimilarity would matter to her.  
  
He tried stitching everything together. And with every scenario that hatched itself inside his head, he always came out as the intruder, the third wheel, the ex who didn't know his place.  
  
"Hey!! What the –?"  
  
Mitsui blinked and saw someone sprawled on the floor in front of his feet. It was Sakuragi. Did he knock over the freshman? Funny, he didn't notice it.  
  
Sakuragi hurriedly jumped back on his feet. "That was a clear, goddamn offensive foul! Why was there no whistle?"  
  
All heads turned to the referee, Ayako, who stood rigidly by the sidelines. By the looks of it, she herself was surprised by the sudden halt in the game. The whistle was not even around her neck – it was in her right hand, dangling limply.  
  
"This is great. I mildly bump into Rukawa and a split second later, the call comes. Foul! I take a few light steps, the call comes. Traveling! But when someone else commits something, he's easily off the hook. I think you have favorites, Ayako-san."  
  
Mitsui grabbed Sakuragi's shoulder. "That's enough. Let's just ask the other referee, okay? Yasuda, was it a–"  
  
The redhead flicked away Mitsui's arm and planted his arms on his waist. "Yasuda was too far to see anything. Only Ayako-san could have seen –"  
  
"Why don't you just drop it? You're not going to get ejected anyway."  
  
"No, I'm not. But this tensai just thinks the referees should be more alert and fair."  
  
"Give her a break!" Mitsui found himself yelling. "She's supposed to do three thousand things at the same time!"  
  
"And who put you as Ayako-san's defender? Where is Ryo-chin anyway?"  
  
"You two! Shut up right now!!"  
  
Mitsui and Sakuragi were about to advance on each other when they heard Akagi's loud, authoritative command. It had the effect of placating them both.  
  
"We're going to practice, not argue," the captain said when he reached the two. "Sakuragi, you'll get a technical foul in a real game if you pull a stunt like that again." Akagi held up his hand to silence any more outburst from the unruly freshman. "Mitsui, I expected you to have more presence of mind." When this was met by only a scowl, Akagi finally turned to Ayako. "Tell me, are you feeling alright?"  
  
She nodded. "I… yes. Why?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Sakuragi grinned from ear to ear, his anger from moments ago completely vanished when he sniffed a chance to tease. "Maybe she's just missing Ryo-chin."  
  
"Butt out, d'aho."  
  
"Rukawa…."  
  
The two freshmen started one of their typical quarrels, but Mitsui saw that Akagi seemed to dismiss it. The captain walked towards the sideline to where Ayako was. He looked tired and worried, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. Mitsui couldn't help but inch closer to hear the conversation.  
  
"Do you have any idea what happened to him? He usually lets me know if something's wrong and he can't practice," Akagi began.  
  
"I really don't know, sempai," she replied, biting her lip. "Maybe he's just sick."  
  
Akagi ran his palm over his face. "He can't be. We're leaving for the Inter High day after tomorrow. Sensei, what are we going to do?"  
  
The bright overhead lights reflected off the glasses of the coach as he turned towards Akagi. "Don't worry, Akagi-kun. He'll be fine." Anzai- sensei then focused his attention on Ayako. "But your team manager won't be if you don't bring her to the clinic soon. She looks a bit pale and shaky, despite what she says."  
  
Ayako reddened as both pairs of eyes settled on her. "I'm alright, really."  
  
"It's not like her to miss an obvious fault in the game, " Mitsui managed to blurt out before he could stop himself, making it obvious he was eavesdropping all along. "Maybe she does need a rest, sensei," he amended. She did look weary. To the others, she simply appeared tired, but Mitsui knew differently.  
  
"Oh no, we can't have you sick too," Akagi frowned.  
  
Anzai-sensei smiled kindly and patted Ayako's hand. "Since practice is about to end in an hour, I suggest you just take her home, Mitsui-kun."  
  
His eyes locked with hers. He tried to swallow as he pried his gaze away. "But–"  
  
"You heard the sensei," Akagi cut in, crossing his arms in front of his massive chest. "Ayako's rarely ever sick, which is why I'm worried. Someone has to get her safely home. But I have to remind you, whatever training you missed in practice, you have to make up by yourself."  
  
"I know, damn you. I am not an idiot freshman."  
  
Akagi merely shrugged his shoulders, apparently used to Mitsui's rebelliousness. He took the whistle and timer from Ayako before jogging back to the court to resume the game and break up the fight between Sakuragi and Rukawa.  
  
Mitsui couldn't help but be drawn towards the bench where Ayako was arranging her things. She had removed her red cap and was finger-combing the long locks from her sweaty face, sending them bouncing down her straight back. He knew her so well that just by looking at her now, he could tell something was troubling her. She was just putting up an effort against it, trying to hide behind her strength.  
  
He hadn't been able to stand it each time she had used silence as her defense. And as it slowly came to him that she was returning his stare, he became conscious he still couldn't stand it. Giving himself a mental shake that he can't be caught staring anymore, he hurried to the locker room. He didn't want to take long in changing, didn't want to remember the exchange that happened in the same room yesterday. When he was through, Ayako was already outside the gym, waiting.  
  
"Anzai-sensei," Mitsui said tentatively as he approached the coach. "We're leaving now."  
  
He had already taken several steps to the exit, thinking the coach didn't hear him, when the old man cleared his throat. "I trust you know what to do, Mitsui-kun," he said with his back turned.  
  
Moments later, walking quietly with Ayako at his side, Mitsui was still wondering exactly what Anzai-sensei meant. How much did the old man know and was not telling? Did he even know anything at all? It was her voice that brought him back to the present.  
  
"My bag must be heavy."  
  
He answered with a grin, adjusting the weights of both their bags on his shoulders. "I don't really notice." When she averted her gaze to the ground, he found the boldness to plod on. "Ayako, about yesterday…."  
  
"I don't really want to talk about it, Hisashi."  
  
She almost never called him by his first name anymore, which is why it was always sweet to his ears when she did. But that didn't satisfy him now. "What happened?" he persisted.  
  
Before she could answer, a group of girl students standing by the volleyball court called out Ayako's name as the two of them were passing. Mitsui recognized them as second-year students, probably even classmates of Ayako and Miyagi, and one of the girls didn't take long to prove he was right.  
  
"Hey, Ryota-kun was absent again today," the classmate said.  
  
Ayako only shrugged with a smile, and Mitsui wondered why she didn't stop walking, as though she wanted to get away from her friends as fast as she could….  
  
"You didn't have anything to do with it, did you, Aya?" another teased good-naturedly, receiving giggles from the rest of the group.  
  
"Why don't you just stop breaking the poor guy's heart?"  
  
"Yukari here has had the biggest crush on him since last year, so I'd watch out!"  
  
"I do *not* have a crush on Miyagi!"  
  
"Right. Right."  
  
"Just watch out, Aya. If you don't start treating Ryota-kun right, someone else will!"  
  
Mitsui watched as Ayako laughed off her classmates' ribbing with a wave of her hand. She continued to walk, faster this time, even distancing herself from him. He noticed that her shoulders were still shaking with laughter, but as he caught up with her long strides, he discovered she was actually in tears.  
  
Without thinking, he reached out to touch her face.  
  
"No."  
  
"Please, just tell me what-"  
  
"I said *no,* Hisashi. Just take me home."  
  
"Damnit! Will you stop and look at me?" he snapped, catching her arm. "You can talk to me. I'm here. I'll listen. Don't you know me at all?"  
  
She made no pretense of hiding her crying now. Drops of tears clung to her jaw before they fell to her blouse. She looked so vulnerable, that all Mitsui wanted then was to take her in his arms. Instead, he took her hand gently, an apology on his part for his bruising manner earlier, and led her to the deserted front steps of one of the school buildings. He still held her hand in his when they were already seated, their bags lying by their feet.  
  
"Hisashi," she said softly after some time. "I do owe you the truth. I owe both of you the truth. But it's not exactly easy."  
  
He fished out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and touched it to her face. "It never is."  
  
She let him wipe the wetness from her cheeks, and he tried not to notice how the flecks of blue in her eyes were made clearer and bigger by her tears. When he pulled away and folded the handkerchief, he heard her heave a deep sigh.  
  
"He hates me," she began.  
  
"That's ridiculous. Miyagi can never hate you. He's madly in love with you." *And so am I,* Mitsui added, but only to himself.  
  
Ayako sniffed, shaking her head. "He's had a change of heart. I can't blame him. After what he heard me say in the locker room, how can I?"  
  
Mitsui focused on the patch of moonlight that landed right next to her feet. "So you were lying. You really had something going on between the two of you." At her quiet nod, he went on with the more difficult question. "For curiosity's sake, how long had it been going on?"  
  
"It was just one kiss."  
  
"No, not that. I meant… how long have you had feelings for him?"  
  
Those large pools of deep blue met his eyes. He read the answer in them even before she opened her mouth to answer. "A long time, I guess."  
  
"And you hid it from him and from me."  
  
"I think you know why."  
  
Mitsui shut his eyes. "And what about Miyagi? Does he know… about us?"  
  
"I tried telling him yesterday," she whispered, her voice breaking down, followed by a fresh batch of tears. "But he wouldn't even give me a chance to explain. I don't know. Maybe it's better this way."  
  
He smoothed the hair sticking to her forehead while she wiped at her tears. She didn't mind, for which he was pleased. "What do you mean it's b-"  
  
"Hisashi," she drew out his name. "I don't want to come between the two of you. Not now, when you guys are getting along so well. And probably not ever."  
  
He felt ashamed and guilty for the things she had to do just because of his pride. He placed his hands gently on both sides of her face and pulled her closer. "So you're willing to let him just slip through your hands? You're willing to give up that much?  
  
She bit her lip and nodded.  
  
"Ayako," he whispered, running his thumb over her smooth eyebrow. "Don't make the same mistake I did."  
  
A single teardrop trailed its way down her cheek. The silence said more than words could.  
  
Much later, standing in front of her doorstep, Mitsui remembered the many moments he and Ayako had shared on that exact same spot… holding hands, kissing, laughing, or just embracing. He hadn't walked her home in years, and it was strange that he found himself with her now, under such a situation.  
  
"I haven't seen you in a while, Hisashi-kun," Ayako's mother greeted him with a warm smile when she opened the door. Suddenly, at that moment, Mitsui was reminded of many lunches and dinners he had with Ayako's family, how well they received him and treated him as if one of their own, and how much he had missed them.  
  
But he politely turned down her mother's invitation, knowing he had something to do for Ayako.  
  
"What now?" Ayako asked him, holding the sleeve of his shirt.  
  
He stepped back, letting her hand fall away. "I have to go somewhere, and do something I should have done a long time ago."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
One showdown, coming up next…. 


	9. revised chap 9

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it, even the grand amount of three pesos I have in my wallet. ^^  
  
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Remind me next time to steer clear of setting deadlines for myself -_-. I did get some work done, but not on the last chap, as promised. Instead I found myself re-writing chaps 9 and 10. Ever since I uploaded them, I had a nagging feeling that something was missing. Took me 4 ½ months to finally understand what that was. More notes at the end of chap 10.  
  
See? Sometimes shelving your work can have its advantages. Ehehe. -_-  
  
BTW, hi people! Many of you newbies to ff.net probably don't know me and don't care. so let me re-introduce myself. I'm Cyam. (Maybe you'd like to check out my profile; it will save us all from another bout of my babbling.) As for those people who do know and remember me. I'm sorry, you guys. For what it's worth, I'm attempting a resurrection here. ^_^  
  
  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Miyagi's watch told him that training must have been over an hour and a half ago. Normally, four players, himself included, would still hang around to shoot some more hoops or argue with each other about matters of no great importance.  
  
He squinted his eyes against the darkness, trying to make out the figures inside the gym. From his vantage point on the rooftop of the high school building, he couldn't see anything, but he could definitely hear Rukawa and Sakuragi yelling and flinging the hard, orange balls at each other, instead of practicing like they should. A loud, buzzing sound flitted near his ears and Miyagi swatted the mosquito away. He wondered why Mitsui hadn't stepped in yet and ended the silly squabble between the two freshmen.  
  
"Oy!" a dark figure called out.  
  
Miyagi swung around to see someone close the heavy metal door with a thud and approach forward. "Who's there?" he shouted.  
  
A few more steps and the shadowy outline turned out to be no other than Mitsui himself.  
  
"*Don't* do that! You scared the hell out of me!" Miyagi growled.  
  
The newcomer ignored the complaint, walked past Miyagi, and stopped at the railings that lined the edge of the roof. His hands were stuffed inside his pant pockets, his posture languid. He seemed to be amused by the actions inside the gym, but after a few moments, spoke up with a deep, steady voice. "What are you doing here hiding like some damn sissy?"  
  
Miyagi's laughter rang clear and undisturbed in the cold night, only to die down abruptly afterwards. "So what are you? The local nanny? Did you come here to scold little Ryo-chin for missing practice?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"Well, sorry to let you down, but I did some practicing on my own."  
  
For the first time since their conversation started, Mitsui turned to face Miyagi. "Wow, Akagi must be so proud of you," the taller and older of the two remarked. They both snickered at the thought.  
  
"How did you know I was here anyway?"  
  
"I saw you go this way this afternoon."  
  
Miyagi picked up the ball resting beside his sports bag on the ground, dribbled it fast, yet in an absent manner. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?" he asked, twirling the ball on his finger. Seeing Mitsui shake his head no, Miyagi smiled his thanks. "So what happened at practice?"  
  
A pause. Mitsui coughed to clear his throat. "You really didn't have to miss it."  
  
"I knew it. You're here for some guy talk," Miyagi replied with a sigh. He frowned at Mitsui, as if disappointed that the senior didn't understand something he was supposed to. "She was there. I just didn't want to see her yet."  
  
Mitsui gestured with his hands, asking for the ball, and caught the pass. "I guess this means you two didn't work it out."  
  
"No."  
  
"I thought everything would be alright if you guys talked things straight. She *did* follow you home yesterday, you know," Mitsui said, dribbling the ball effortlessly between his legs, his eyes trained on Miyagi.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. But there was nothing left to talk about. I heard everything. I heard everything clear. And how do you think I felt, huh? I worshipped this girl for two years of my life, got dumped by ten others because of her, studied hard just to land in her class, and got into high school basketball to impress her and be with her. Everything I did was for her! I damn near convinced myself that we can have a future. That we can have a relationship. And then I found out she was just playing me for a fool. Two years, Mitsui, I wasted two years chasing someone I didn't even know. Or I thought I did."  
  
"You didn't give her a chance to explain."  
  
"And what could she possibly have told me? I don't want her apologies, excuses, and most of all, her pity. I've been a loser for too long. I just think it'd be best for me to try and get over everything. Get over her."  
  
Mitsui's reaction was a raised eyebrow. "You sure you want to do this?"  
  
Miyagi nodded, his jaw set. "Of course, I know I'll still think of her once in a while. But it'll pass."  
  
"What if I tell you something that just might change your mind? Something she was supposed to tell you yesterday but couldn't?"  
  
"Listen, you've done enough. Thanks for talking to her in the locker room like I asked you to. It's just my damn luck I overheard the wrong things."  
  
Mitsui stopped his playing and straightened up. "Miyagi, *you* listen to me. If I were in your shoes, I'd feel the exact same way. But I'm not, which makes me see and understand things differently," Mitsui said, watching Miyagi steadily. The senior breathed deeply before continuing, "You might want to know, I missed half of the practice because I had to take Ayako home."  
  
Mitsui saw a look of alarm flash across Miyagi's face before disappearing quickly. "Why? What's the matter with her?" Miyagi asked, pretending some disinterest.  
  
"I thought you just said you don't want anything to do with her anymore."  
  
Miyagi shrugged, turning his back on Mitsui. "I know what I said. But I also know it will need a little getting used to. Until then, I can't help it if I still.."  
  
"I see."  
  
"So how is she?"  
  
"Well, she looked just as bad as you do now."  
  
Even though Miyagi's back was turned, Mitsui could tell how the news upset him. The point guard ran his fingers through his hair, in deep and serious thought.  
  
"I know what you're thinking, Miyagi, and you're wrong. It wasn't guilt. It was something else. If anything, the one who should be feeling guilty is right here on this rooftop with you."  
  
As expected, his words brought Miyagi around with a confused look on his face.  
  
"She wanted to tell you the whole story yesterday. But in a way, I think it's better that I should be the one to tell you. This is actually long overdue. Are you willing to listen now?"  
  
"I don't understand," was all the bewildered Miyagi could say.  
  
Mitsui let the ball bounce to the ground, his left hand fishing for something in his pant pockets. With a sudden movement, he tossed the object straight at Miyagi, whose hand shot up swiftly to catch it.  
  
Miyagi directed the thing on his palm at a streak of moonlight, his eyes widening when he saw that it was Mitsui's thin, silver necklace. This time, it had a heart-shaped pendant. "What the -?"  
  
"Just open it," Mitsui said.  
  
Making quick work at the clasp, Miyagi's fingers unlocked the pendant. At first, he did not realize what he was staring at, but when he blinked his eyes to get used to the darkness surrounding them, he froze and felt his throat constrict painfully. He was looking at a picture of a younger Mitsui. and a younger Ayako who had her head resting on his shoulders.  
  
The late night air blew over the drops of cold sweat that broke out on Miyagi's forehead. "What the hell is this?" he roared, more to himself than to Mitsui.  
  
Mitsui's gaze didn't falter. "Miyagi, she used to be with me. She was my girlfriend."  
  
He didn't fight it when the point guard charged at him, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him down to eye-level. "When?" came the question with barely-controlled rage, confusion, and shock.  
  
"Junior high."  
  
"She was the ex you told me about?!" Miyagi said through clenched teeth. "*She* was the ex?" he repeated, backing Mitsui up against the hard surface of the wall.  
  
Miyagi released his tight grip on Mitsui and slammed his fist against the wall, on a spot right next to Mitsui's head. The chain of the necklace bit into the skin of his tightly closed palm, but the pain was more than welcome. He was breathing hard, his mouth open, his mind running in different directions..  
  
The story Mitsui told him when they were drinking in the bar. Mitsui's reluctance to talk about it, at first. "I want her back."  
  
Mitsui and Ayako sitting beside each other on the Shohoku bench. Ayako pretending to call Mitsui "sempai." Mitsui passing out in the game against Ryonan, a frantic Ayako at his side..  
  
The afternoon he and Ayako kissed. and Mitsui interrupted them with a phone call. Why she made him promise not to tell anyone. How she avoided him afterwards.  
  
Back in the bar, he broke that promise and told Mitsui, of all people.  
  
And then the argument he had heard in the locker room. "What's going on between you and Miyagi?" It now made sense why Mitsui was so mad. "You should know me better than that, Hisashi." Was that was she had said? Hisashi. she said Hisashi. He didn't notice it then.  
  
The lie. She had to deny that something was going on between them.  
  
When she went to his house yesterday to explain. "What I told Mitsui, it was just.." And he didn't even hear her out.  
  
The fight many months ago, when both he and Mitsui ended up in the hospital.  
  
Miyagi slit his eyes open. Pushing himself from the wall, he advanced on Mitsui. "When you had your gang beat me up. here, right here on this damn rooftop. that was. that was because of her?!"  
  
"Mostly. Yeah."  
  
Miyagi looked past Mitsui to the spot where they had pounded each other until they were both unconscious. He could almost feel the hands that had held him back as two or three others punched and kicked him again and again and again. He could almost hear his bones and ribs cracking, taste the blood on his cut lips.  
  
He plowed into Mitsui, slamming the senior's back against the wall once more. "You bastard! All this time I had no idea!" he whispered hoarsely. Miyagi lifted his hold on Mitsui's shirt collar, only to shove him harder. "I didn't know anything at all! I didn't know anything -"  
  
"Damn you, you had it easier! I knew everything!" Mitsui shouted, freeing himself from Miyagi's grasp and spitting on the ground.  
  
"I wanted my girlfriend back and you didn't even have a slightest idea you were standing in my way!" Mitsui pushed Miyagi, hard. "I had to watch the two of you everyday, wondering if she was falling for you too. I had to listen to you talk about her. I even had to give you advice when you needed it." With every word he said Mitsui's face contracted into a snarl. "All this time I had to act like nothing was wrong, so don't go talking to me about *your* problems!"  
  
Miyagi stared at the necklace and the deep marks it left on his palm. He opened the pendant once more, and squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
The brown, curly locks he admired were shorter, just above her beautiful, smooth shoulders. She was smiling, the picture taken just before she broke out into laughter. This was the Ayako he never had the chance to know or meet. And she had Mitsui's arms around her.  
  
"You've been lying to me all along, you son of a bitch," Miyagi said in a low, tight voice.  
  
"I didn't fucking lie to you!"  
  
The point guard cradled his head between his hands, eyes shut tightly. He was visibly shaking. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before? What am I? A. a fucking puppet or. or a frigging plaything? Huh?" He shouted out the last question, his fist finding contact with the shooting guard's stomach.  
  
Mitsui reacted by grabbing both Miyagi's shoulders and slamming the smaller guy to the ground. Mitsui gripped the point guard's shirt, their faces inches away from each other. "You want to change places, is that it? Huh, tough guy?" Mitsui blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes. "Because I'd gladly trade with you. You hear that? I'd gladly change places with you!"  
  
For a moment, Mitsui wondered how satisfying it would feel if he just rammed his fist into Miyagi's jaw. But after seeing the same look of anger in Miyagi's eyes, he just rammed his fist into the ground, on a spot beside the shorter guy's head. "Everything's different now because of you. Because you entered the picture, because you came along. But lemme just tell you, you're not even close to what she and I used to have," he told Miyagi slowly, his voice cracking.  
  
Mitsui brusquely let go of Miyagi and got up. "Did you know I called her Aya-chan first? Yeah that's right. I beat you to that."  
  
The point guard remained still on the ground, breathing heavily.  
  
"Did you know that she hates noisy people in movie houses. that she loves home-made ice cream. blueberry, she loves blueberry ice cream.  
  
"Did you know that. that. that she keeps her journal under a blue carpet in her room. and that she sleeps on a water bed? Did you ever notice that she has this. this habit. of biting her lip when she's amused, and. and twirling her hair around her forefinger when she's nervous?  
  
"She watched all of my games in my last year at junior high. Did you know that, huh? She even has the jersey I wore when my school won the championship - "  
  
"Shut up!" Miyagi yelled into the cold night. "Just shut up," he added weakly, almost begging.  
  
But Mitsui was beyond stopping. "Have you even met her parents? Do you even know them? Or do they even know you? Have you. have you two ever danced in the rain like silly kids? Just have a. a plain good time under the rain? Have you ever fallen asleep in her arms? Have you seen her laugh so hard she gets teary-eyed?  
  
"Do you know she once told me that tattoos and piercings turn her off? Piercings, for crying out loud! I don't even get it why she likes you.. Don't you see it, Miyagi? You were right. You don't even know her."  
  
A long spell of silence followed. The night air had become heavy. They both felt drained and worn out, having confronted each other with the things they had kept to themselves for so long. They both tried to swallow back the tightness that was welling up in their throats.  
  
"I had a feeling it wasn't just basketball," Miyagi murmured later, forcing some calm back into his voice.  
  
"What?"  
  
"When you picked on me and I returned you the favor, and we both got sent to the hospital. I knew it was more than just about the game."  
  
At this point Miyagi stood up and approached Mitsui. Maybe the enveloping shadows lent some semblance of comfort, maybe it gave some chance to hide and be bold, because Miyagi found it in himself to dare a step further. "Tell me. What hurt more," the shorter guy ventured. Losing the game or losing the girl?"  
  
The question took Mitsui aback. He couldn't look at the point guard so he glued his eyes to his own feet. "I don't know," he answered honestly, shrugging. "I can't. think of one without the other. Basketball became exciting to me because of her, and I guess she got to me... got in here," the shooting guard paused, tapping his heart. ".because of basketball. And it was so easy to hate you, you know, because you had two things that used to be mine. Two things that I love most in the world."  
  
"I didn't take them from you."  
  
A muscle twitched in the taller guy's jaw as he exchanged meaningful looks with Miyagi. *You lost them on your own*, the shorter guy could have added, but didn't.  
  
"I don't want to fight anymore, okay, and I know you don't want to either," Miyagi said. "I've put our differences aside before - it sure as hell wasn't easy - but I'm willing to do that again. For her."  
  
Mitsui first looked at the hand on his shoulder, then at Miyagi's face, matching the intensity of the point guard's stare.  
  
"Shit, Mitsui. Let her go. It's been two years."  
  
The taller guy's only response was to look away.  
  
"For some reason, after all the fights. we've become friends. We get along well. I don't want any of that to change," Miyagi admitted, then paused as he removed his hand from Mitsui's shoulder. "We're not much different, you and I. We're in love with the same girl. And we've both hurt her."  
  
Miyagi paused again. "I can't match what you and Ayako had, if that's your point. That's history. That belongs to the two of you alone. All I'm asking. I guess all I'm asking is that you give me the same chance to be with her as you had," Miyagi said, his features downcast. "How can I get to know her. how can she and I start something if you won't even let us?"  
  
Even though Mitsui showed no reaction, Miyagi could tell that his words hit home.  
  
"I can't guarantee she'll be as happy with me as she was with you, but I'll try. I'll give it my best shot. I don't want to make her cry any more than you do. This," Miyagi stopped, his hand sweeping over the entire rooftop, at the smudges of dirt on the wall and on the ground. ". is the reason why she kept us in the dark. It makes sense now why she did what she did - the last thing she wanted was for something like this to happen. That girl knows our egos much too well.."  
  
When the senior still refused to respond, Miyagi inhaled deeply, shaking the hand he used to punch the hard wall, checking his bruises. "Deep down, I know you agree with what I'm saying. Otherwise, you wouldn't have come here tonight to tell me that -"  
  
"Let her go?"  
  
Miyagi blinked.  
  
"Two years," Mitsui repeated Miyagi's words earlier, as if hearing them for the first time. "It's been two years."  
  
The point guard had nothing more to say. The truth was sometimes too painful to take in all at once.  
  
Mitsui laughed with a sound that had nothing to do with humor. "You know what, maybe you do know her. You sound just like her when I talked to her yesterday."  
  
Mitsui went after the ball, picked it up, then after a few moments, tossed it over to Miyagi. "What matters here is what she wants. And well, for some reason, she wants you," he said, a faint smile teasing the corners of his mouth and his forefinger directed at Miyagi. "She moved on, I didn't. That's my problem."  
  
He shook his head and wiped at his face. "I'm sorry. For the things I put you through. I just couldn't get over her then. I thought I could still do something to make her choose me. But now I realize that you win." Mitsui combed his fingers through his hair, wincing when some loose skin from the punching wound snagged some strands. "I guess I'm happy, even though it hasn't sunk in yet, because I know she's in good hands."  
  
He turned to leave, apparently for him the conversation was over, but Miyagi called out his name.  
  
"Beer might help."  
  
"What?" Mitsui turned around.  
  
"I said - "  
  
"Yare yare. I heard it. Forget it, alright? I don't want you for a drinking buddy tonight, you of all people."  
  
Miyagi chuckled and a beat later, so did Mitsui. The tension was cut.  
  
"Wait a sec," the point guard continued, shifting his footing, uneasy with what he was about to ask. "How can you say for sure that she still wants me? I mean, I. I turned her down and didn't even listen.."  
  
Mitsui walked on without looking back until he reached the door. Grasping the knob, he faced Miyagi with a sad smile. "I know because yesterday - and damn you for making me say this - when she said your name. she had a look on her face that I once saw for me."  
  
Miyagi felt warmed by Mitsui's answer. He watched quietly as the senior opened the door. "Hey, thanks," he said over the sudden gust of wind.  
  
"Yeah, shut up. Just take good care of our Aya-chan, got that?"  
  
Miyagi nodded. "Got that," he whispered.  
  
The door closed behind Mitsui's back, leaving Miyagi to think about what happened, and what will still happen. He glanced down at his hand. Mitsui had forgotten to take back the thin, silver necklace. Or had he?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*** 


	10. revised chap 10

Disclaimer: SD does not belong to me, though I would give anything to own it, even the grand amount of three pesos I have in my wallet.  
  
Chapter 10  
  
"Oh, you just missed her. She went out ten minutes ago."  
  
"Uhm.. I'll just wait for her, if that's alright with you."  
  
"Of course it is. But she went out with Hisashi and -"  
  
The name. "I'm sorry. Did you say Hisashi?"  
  
"Yes. Why? Do you know him?"  
  
He shuffled his feet and nodded.  
  
"What did you say your name was again?"  
  
"Ryota."  
  
"You go to school with Ayako?"  
  
"Uhm, we're in the same class."  
  
"That's wonderful! Are you also a member of the basketball club?"  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"Then you must be that point guard? Ryoga?"  
  
"Uhm, Ryota."  
  
An embarrassed laugh. "Sorry. Ryota. You just sit in the garden, ne? I'm cleaning the house right now."  
  
"Can I do anything to help?"  
  
"Oh, no, don't mind! I'm sure Ayako wouldn't like it if she comes back to discover I had tortured her classmate."  
  
Miyagi ran his fingers fondly over the strings of his guitar, recalling in his mind the conversation he had with Ayako's mother. She was around the same age as his mom, with a few crinkles around her eyes. The instant she had opened the door, he knew where Ayako got her deep, thoughtful eyes. And maybe the rich, brown, curly hair came from her father, since her mother had blue-black hair.  
  
He strummed a few notes, then looked curiously around the small garden. He was seated on a low bench, right beside the long row of orchids that were obviously well cared for. Some were purple, some were blue, some were pink, and all of them looked very much delicate, with their roots snaking out thinly to embrace the tree trunks, their fragrance filling the air.  
  
Miyagi tried to imagine Ayako busily watering them, or swiping away at insects, or even pressing her face against the soft petals, her soft hair mingling with the leaves and the flowers. The thought made him smile to himself. Where could she be? The longer he waited, the more his heart played tricks on him.  
  
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he brought the guitar closer to his body. He would simply be no good to her if he kept on in this nervous, jumpy state. He had to relax. He had to practice one more time what he wanted her to listen to..  
  
* * *  
  
"I talked to him last night."  
  
"Oh, I'm willing to bet it was more than just talk," Ayako said, biting her lip, not daring to glance at Mitsui.  
  
"Darn it. I hate it when you're right," Mitsui grinned, squeezing the hand that he had been dying to hold again, and was glad when she let him to.  
  
"I'm always right," she returned.  
  
"Is that how you feel about your decision?" Mitsui could have kicked himself. He merely wanted to continue their good-natured sparring, but when she withdrew her hand from his, he knew he should have just shut his mouth. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound as if - "  
  
She shook her head, cutting him off. "Just tell me you're okay, that you're not -"  
  
"Not what? Hurt?" he finished for her, looking straight into her eyes. But he was the first to break the contact, choosing instead to focus on the spot of setting sun over the wide expanse of sea. "Actually I am. But more than that, I'm happy because you're happy."  
  
She surprised him by inching closer to him, resting her head on his shoulders. Somehow, warm and sweet as the gesture was, it seemed more brotherly than anything else.  
  
He closed his eyes and slid his right arm to hug her. "Remember the last time we were here on the docks?"  
  
"Yeah. Do you still have it? I mean. the necklace?"  
  
She couldn't see him, but she felt him nod as his head rubbed up and down against hers. "Wow, you still remember. I thought you've forgotten."  
  
"How could I? I look good in that picture."  
  
Mitsui laughed. She was the only girl he knew who could match wits with him. "Where did we have that picture taken again?"  
  
"In the studio beside the town cinema. I'm not sure but I think we had a fight trying to decide what pose we wanted."  
  
They both snickered. "Yeah, I think I remember that," he told her.  
  
He sighed, and she felt it vibrate from his body to hers. "We were such a great team back then, weren't we?"  
  
Lifting her head from its place on his shoulder, she leaned towards him until the tips of their noses touched. "We still are, Hisashi."  
  
"I was a lousy boyfriend and an even lousier ex. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't able to take care of you, that I made you cry so many times, that I broke more promises than I kept."  
  
Ayako drew away from Mitsui, and for some moments, watched her reflection in his sad eyes.  
  
"I was a real. asshole. to you and to Miyagi. I did a lot of things I know I shouldn't have, but I guess I just did them because. because I loved you too much. I still do. Isn't that scary? I mean, shit, I'm almost nineteen. I should be dating around, having fun, instead of.."  
  
She smiled softly, the breeze from the water lifting her hair and tossing it all around the two of them. "You'll get over it," she whispered, as he reached out to gently hold a lock of her hair.  
  
"Maybe. I hope so." He tucked the strands behind her ear.  
  
"Who knows? You might meet a new girl in the Inter High."  
  
"Nah," he drawled out, laughing at the idea. "Not yet. I need a break." When this was met by only an amused stare, Mitsui saw an issue to pursue. "But for argument's sake, won't you feel a bit jealous if you start seeing me with another girl?"  
  
"Well.." Ayako faltered. "That's none of my business now, isn't it?"  
  
"I said for argument's sake. And don't give me that safe answer."  
  
She slapped his upper arm playfully. "You are so conceited."  
  
"You're still stalling."  
  
"Fine," she conceded, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a look of feigned annoyance.  
  
"Fine what?"  
  
"Maybe. maybe a smallest hint of jealousy. But that's it."  
  
Mitsui grinned, curious where this was going. "Really? How about that nice- looking senior. the one who's in the same class with Akagi? The redhead, the one who's on the swimming team. the one with those mile-long legs -"  
  
"What about her?" Ayako said, not feigning annoyance this time.  
  
"Supposing I ask her out on a date this Friday, would you get jealous?"  
  
"I already answered your stupid hypothetical question."  
  
Mitsui tweaked Ayako's nose, laughing harder when she slapped his hand away. "You, Aya-chan, are so fun to tease."  
  
She frowned. "You are so full of shit."  
  
He pretended to be scandalized. "Where did you learn that kind of language, young lady?"  
  
"From you."  
  
Mitsui opened his mouth in protest, but thought better than to dig a deeper hole for himself. As usual, he didn't quit when he was still winning.  
  
"Besides," she went on merrily. "You won't be going anywhere on a date anytime soon. We're leaving for the Inter High tomorrow."  
  
The reminder sort of put an end to their light bantering. Things had to be ironed out between the three of them before the team played its first game. They couldn't possibly carry on well with all the unresolved tension hanging in the air.  
  
Mitsui shrugged, which Ayako knew was a sign that he was about to tell her something serious. "I had to show him our necklace yesterday."  
  
Her eyebrows drew together in the middle. "What did he say?"  
  
"You sure you want to hear the gory details?" he asked, his eyes half twinkling and half wary.  
  
"No, I guess I don't," she conceded after a while, an expression of swallowed curiosity marring her features. "Uhhh, why do I always end up with darn troublemakers?"  
  
"Because we're just as darn good-looking?"  
  
She pouted. "Not quite the answer I'm looking for. Try again."  
  
"Because of our magnetic personality? Hey, admit it. Who can resist a bad boy?"  
  
She let that pass and he knew without her saying it that he scored a point there.  
  
"OK, seriously," Mitsui said soberly after a while, studying their interlaced fingers. "I think it's because no matter how bull-headed and stubborn we are, when we fall for a girl, we mean it. It always hits us hard, and suddenly we don't know why, but we become. different. We want to become better persons. We end up doing things that would normally make us cringe, but since it's for that girl, we do it feeling. great."  
  
This time it was Ayako's turn to squeeze his hand. "Keep talking. I'm listening."  
  
"You just don't have any idea, do you, how big a hold you have over me. and Miyagi, for that matter?"  
  
"I think I'm just beginning to see it," she admitted, blushing. "Hisashi. I need to know. uhm. he's alright with you, isn't he?"  
  
"Who? Miyagi?" he asked needlessly and nodded a second later by way of an answer. "He's a good guy," he told her, running his fingers through his unruly hair. "Do you think I'd let you get away with choosing some nobody over me?"  
  
She tilted closer, planting a slow kiss on his right cheek. "Thanks."  
  
"Hey, you better get going now. He's probably waiting for you at your house."  
  
Mitsui stood up, and held his hand out to Ayako, which she took with a laugh, and a mock curtsey. "If in any case it doesn't work out with Miyagi, you know, I'm here." Again, she laughed.  
  
And as his eyes settled on her face, it just dawned on him that the next girl that would be coming along in his life. had a lot to live up to.  
  
* * *  
  
Something was tickling his nose. It smelled dainty and elegant, like the orchids in Ayako's garden. He grinned. The blue one was his favorite, because it had the same shade as her eyes. Deep, clear, and mesmerizing.  
  
All of a sudden, the blue orchid slithered closer to him, and poked him on his arm. "You like me, don't you?" it rasped near his ear.  
  
"Y-yeah," he found himself replying. "Hey, watch the thorns! Wait a sec, you're an orchid! You're not supposed to have thorns!"  
  
"Well, I am special," the blue flower shot back huffily. "You wanna know why?"  
  
It was strange to be talking to a plant, and Miyagi scratched the back of his head. "OK, why?"  
  
The orchid extended its leaves and giggled. "Because I was a gift from Mitsui, baka. He gave me to Ayako-san years ago, long before she met you. And look, she watched over me carefully ever since." The now dark flower loomed over Miyagi. "Tell me, aren't I beautiful?"  
  
He swallowed the mass in his throat and nodded meekly.  
  
"Look at you," the plant went on with her tirade. "You didn't even bring Ayako-san anything! Not even a flower!" And the orchid let out such a loud noise - a cackle - that hurt Miyagi's ears and made him cover them with his hands.  
  
"Shut up!" He tried yelling. "Leave me alone!"  
  
The noise faded gradually until it was only a string of giggles. Miyagi twitched in horror as the flower he once admired sauntered over and touched its leaves to his hair.  
  
"I've always wanted to run my fingers through your hair, just like this." The flower was still giggling, and oddly enough, the sensations it awakened in him were not at all unpleasant. "Ryota. hey, Ryota.." It called to him in a low, gentle voice.  
  
He couldn't take it anymore. He forced himself to move, opening his eyes and grabbing the leaves that were ruffling his hair. He sat up abruptly, vaguely hearing a surprised gasp beside him.  
  
He shook his head, clearing it of cobwebs and sleep. He blinked twice and he waited for his sight to return to normal.  
  
When it did, he saw Ayako sitting right next to him. She was looking at him in this funny way, her mouth hanging open slightly.  
  
He then realized that the leaves he had seized away in his dream - the leaves that had touched his hair and made him feel warm and feverish - was actually her hand.  
  
"Ehehe, I'm really sorry, Aya-chan," he mumbled, loosening his grip on her hand, and bringing it up to a sliver of moonlight to check if he had caused any bruises. "I was having the weirdest dream," he added after a while. "I hope I didn't frighten you."  
  
She slowly drew her hand away from him and onto her lap. "Actually I was enjoying myself. You look really cute when you're asleep, you know. Cuter when you're dreaming."  
  
Her remark made the color rise to his neck and face.  
  
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting. How long have you been here? My mom said over an hour. Is that right?" she asked, starting to feel nervous herself.  
  
"It's okay," he said upon seeing the look of concern and guilt etched across her face. "You really have a nice garden here." Sincere as Miyagi was with that, he still couldn't help but feel unnerved by that awful dream. Well. awful, except for the last part. Except for that.  
  
"You brought your guitar."  
  
Miyagi glanced quickly at his feet. "Yeah, I did."  
  
They both knew very well what they were there for. To talk about everything. To let the truth out, to explain, to confront, to apologize, and then to kiss and make-up, or make-out, afterwards. In that order. Maybe that was why the set-up had them both fidgeting and awkward.  
  
At that moment, Miyagi decided that it was best if he take the first step. He cleared his throat. "I brought it because I wanted you to hear something."  
  
She turned those big eyes on him and smiled. "I'd like that."  
  
"Pretty corny, huh?"  
  
She bent down to pick up the guitar and he watched in fascination as she attempted to cradle it comfortably in her arms. "No, not at all. But I think I'd rather have you teach me how to play."  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"C'mon, I bet it's easy. What song did you have in mind anyway?"  
  
Miyagi's mind raced. He realized, with a start, that he couldn't make sense of the notes that were floating around in his head. They all fled and left him, right after he woke up and saw her beautiful wrist in his hand.  
  
She had really graceful wrists, with cute curves that maybe he'd have the chance to kiss later.  
  
Shit, why was he thinking of wrists? This was no time to go crazy. She was watching him steadily. But for the life of him, he just couldn't bring himself to remember the chords to that stupid song. And what's more, she asked him to show her how to play, which meant getting close. very close. and..  
  
"Ryota?"  
  
"Y-yeah?" he croaked.  
  
"Am I holding it right?"  
  
He stared at her. She did hold the neck a bit too high and a bit too tight, and her other hand was lying atop the waist of the instrument, instead of dangling near the strings.  
  
"Uhm, no. Not really."  
  
She laughed, wrinkling her nose. "Aren't you going to show me how it's done?"  
  
His stomach in knots, tenser than he ever remembered, even tenser than the Shoyo, Ryonan, Kainan games combined, Miyagi adjusted himself on the low bench. "OK, sit here in front of me," he managed to say.  
  
She did as she was told, lowering herself on the space in front of him.  
  
When she sat down, Miyagi had to close his eyes. She was too near. His face was just inches from the back of her neck. His thighs and legs could feel every nuance of her body. Her skin was so smooth. He could smell her.  
  
He coughed twice, then ordered his arms to reach out in front of him, his right hand making contact with hers, his left gently grasping hers and putting it in front of the strings near the guitar hole.  
  
"Just relax," he heard himself saying in a voice barely above a whisper, and he could have said the same thing to himself. "Let the guitar blend into you. You know, like an extension of your body."  
  
"Like this?"  
  
"Uh-huh. Like that."  
  
Ayako bit her lip. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.  
  
He was too near. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. And where his shorts left off, her skin rubbed against coarse hair. Manly hair. His hands on hers were doing funny things to her stomach. And she could smell him.  
  
"So what song did you want to play?" she asked him, keeping her voice low, not wanting him to find out how flushed she felt.  
  
He laughed, and she closed her eyes as the warmth of the sound wrapped around her. "Actually, it was something that I just happened to put together last night."  
  
She twisted around to see his face. "You mean you write songs?"  
  
"I try. Once in a while."  
  
"That's awesome!" she told him, a burst of pride and endearment inside her. "What's the title of this one?"  
  
"I haven't thought of anything yet."  
  
"So just tell me the story. What's it about?" she prodded.  
  
He sat up straighter, pressing his right hand to hers more intimately. He tried to ignore how some strands of her hair escaped her ponytail and grazed her nape. "Two guys, one girl," he began. "Typical triangle, some people might point out, but to me it's not."  
  
She was silent. He didn't really expect her to respond to that, so he merely guided her right hand to the neck of the guitar. He showed her how to pluck the strings.  
  
"They're good friends, all three of them. One of the guys had very deep feelings for the girl, and it was easy to see why. She. she just had this. this way about her. It made that guy want to protect her, and yet he knew she didn't need protecting. At the back of his mind, maybe he even knew he was the one who needed and wanted her more than anything.  
  
"She can make him feel ridiculously happy with just one look, insanely jealous with a little chat with some other guy, and just plain miserable with a careless word. She pushed him to feel all these emotions he didn't even realize he had in the first place. Because of her, he got to know more about himself."  
  
"Ryota.."  
  
"Now this guy," Miyagi spoke quickly before Ayako could get out a word. "He was so naïve and wide-eyed that he trusted his friend with. with everything. Little that this guy knew that his friend. and his girl. had been.."  
  
The movement was so sudden that he didn't have the time to flinch. The guitar plopped down with a thud on the moist grass. Ayako twisted in her seat, the upper part of her body facing him. She had tears in her eyes and her lower lip trembled.  
  
What was it that Mitsui had said? That she bit her lip every time she was nervous?  
  
"Ryota, I'm so. so sorry," she whispered, putting her hands on either side of his face and locking her eyes with his.  
  
His hands traveled upwards to enclose over hers. Now that he found the guts to speak, he couldn't stop. "At first, he was confused and furious, like anyone who'd been betrayed. Most of all he felt like a complete idiot. He had trusted too much."  
  
She opened her mouth to speak, but he tenderly snapped it shut with an upward flick of his forefinger. "He didn't want to see that girl again. And he really wanted to beat the hell out of his friend. To be honest, they pretty much came close to beating the hell out of each other. But then they came to their senses."  
  
He traced the sides of her cheek, the curve of her jaw. "It wasn't anyone's fault. It wasn't his fault that his friend met her first. It wasn't his friend's fault either that he still loved her long after the relationship was over. And it wasn't her fault that she didn't tell them the truth right away. She just wanted to protect them." Miyagi smiled. "Isn't that something? She ended up protecting them, instead of them protecting her."  
  
"Just tell me," Ayako murmured, meeting his eyes briefly before shifting in her seat and turning her back on him again. "I just have to know. This guy. can he. can he ever love the girl again?"  
  
He took a deep breath. "He didn't really stop, Aya-chan. And he couldn't, even if he tried."  
  
He gazed quietly at the fine, baby hair on the back of her neck. How was it that the sheer mechanics of breathing were swiftly lost to him?  
  
He couldn't understand what came over him, but she looked unbelievably inviting, that he pressed his lips on that spot lightly. He felt her shiver.  
  
Slowly, she twisted and faced him once more. He watched her moisten her lips.  
  
And just like the first time, just like in all the dreams he had, he lowered his head, their noses bumping each other shyly at first, before their lips met.  
  
He kissed her, groaning, cradling her nape firmly in his palm, slanting her head a little to taste more of her.  
  
She kissed him back, her hand clutching the front of his shirt.  
  
Is this how it will always be with her?  
  
His left hand still kneading the back of her neck, his right hand ran across her skin, from the tip of her elbow to her shoulder. Miyagi thought idly how easy and mind-numbingly wonderful it was.  
  
He was losing himself. As their kiss deepened, he felt his whole body flow into her, like water. He couldn't tell which hands, which lips were his anymore.  
  
Is this what Mitsui meant when he once said, over some glasses of beer, "I was her, she was me"?  
  
Mitsui.  
  
*"She was with me, Miyagi. She was my girlfriend."*  
  
*"I didn't know anything, anything at all!"*  
  
*"You're not even close to what she and I used to have."*  
  
Miyagi broke off the kiss, turning his head sideways, catching his breath. "Aya-chan, I can't."  
  
Ayako's eyes flew open. "What's wrong?"  
  
He refused to meet her stare. "I didn't come here for this."  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"Look, Aya-chan," he said, swallowing past the lump in his throat, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again. "I wasn't supposed to tell you I still have feelings for you. That I probably will always have. But I already did. I guess I'm just a bad liar."  
  
She blinked, a teardrop clinging to the ends of her lashes.  
  
"And I wasn't supposed to kiss you either," he went on, fighting hard the urge to do just that again. "But I already did, and I can't say I'm sorry about that."  
  
He rooted for something in his pocket and what he handed her stole her breath.  
  
"I came here tonight to give this back to you," he told her, spreading her palm and dropping in the middle of it the thin, silver necklace that she thought she'd never lay eyes on again.  
  
"H-how'd you get this?" she gasped.  
  
"Mitsui forgot to take it back last night."  
  
She opened the pendant. There it was. The picture of her and Hisashi.  
  
"I did a lot of thinking when I got home," Miyagi went on before his bravado deserted him. "When Mitsui was telling me just how much and how long the two of you had been together, I got so angry I hit him. I then told him that he should just learn to accept things. That he blew his chance, and that he shouldn't ruin mine.  
  
"But when I couldn't go to sleep later that night, I looked at the necklace, and at the picture. Maybe. maybe he's the one who's right. Maybe I'm the one who should just learn to accept things."  
  
"Ryota," Ayako said, gripping him closer to her.  
  
He shook his head no. "Don't, please. This isn't easy." And she released her hold.  
  
"I. I don't want you to choose me because you feel sorry for me, or because you want to run away from Mitsui. I don't want you to choose me now, and then later, realize that you'd much rather be with Mitsui, just like the old times.  
  
"Admit it, Aya-chan. You guys. what you shared, what you had. that was something. There are people who would kill to have that kind of bond in their lives. You guys are so lucky to have found that when you were still very young. I can only look at it. and wish I'd known you sooner, wish I'd known you first. You see, you may not realize it now, but after Mitsui, every guy you'll be with would seem just a simple compromise.  
  
"He knows things about you that would take me years to learn. He's almost a part of your family! And you. you made him want to become a better person, and he is now. Are you really sure you want to leave him - now when he's become the guy he always wanted to be? Are you sure about me as I am about you? I don't want you to ever regret that you picked me over him. I mean, with him, you have one long road. With me, it would be like starting a tiny little street or something.  
  
"And I'm okay with that. But the point is, you can't really move on with me if you still haven't reached the end with him. Don't. don't let things pass you by, Aya-chan -"  
  
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.  
  
"- just because you're scared that he'll hurt you again. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Falling in love is always taking that risk, you know."  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
He didn't answer because he didn't know.  
  
"Why? Why are you. why are you rejecting me?"  
  
He closed his eyes and kissed her hand. "I'm not rejec-"  
  
"Is this your way of getting back at me for lying to you?"  
  
"I just.." He pulled away, released her hand, and stood up. "He was willing to step back and give way last night. I want to be fair. I want to take a step back and give way too." Miyagi retrieved the guitar from the ground. "Think things over, Aya-chan. I just want you to be with the one who can make you happiest."  
  
With heavy eyes, she watched him leave the garden, everything he said ringing in her ears.  
  
  
  
  
  
*** Why did I revise? Hmm. good question. I did because months of staying away from this fic helped some simple, previously ignored errors to become obvious: Mitsui and Miyagi seem to be too tame and their argument too abruptly ended for them to be believable furious, red-blooded teenage guys.  
  
I did upgrade the rating of this fic to PG-13, and my apologies to anyone who might have been offended by the profanity. But guys, I wanted for things to be. realistic. When guys fight, it's often like that - years of enduring the slovenly manners of my guy cousins and guy friends give me credibility ^_^.  
  
My thanks to Eliar Swiftfire for his services as beta-reader. And my thanks also to everyone who's put up with me. Reactions are always welcome. ^_^ 


End file.
